


Comminate

by Green_essential



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Badass, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Jim Gordon Sister, Murder, Not Romance, One-Sided Attraction, POV Original Female Character, Platonic Relationships, Protective Jim Gordon, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_essential/pseuds/Green_essential
Summary: “So, let me get this straight; you thought that just because you called me beautiful and *tried* to flirt with me, I would suddenly be ok with you murdering my brother and a bunch of other innocent people?”“...Yeah.”“Wow.”
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. PILOT

**Author's Note:**

> Cassandra Gordon face claim: Samara Weaving  
> Most of her look and style comes from The Babysitter, first film. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it, cause it's hilarious lol.

_It was dark._

_Not so dark she couldn’t see, but dark enough to freak her out, even just a little bit. She could see the outline of the long, gravel road in front of her, going over a bridge and into a city that she knew too well._

_She was on the outskirts of Gotham._

_A soft breeze brushed back a wavy piece of blonde hair over her shoulder, and it carried the heavy scent of rain. She looked in the direction of its origins, and saw that dark, angry clouds were rolling over the sky, across the bright stars and moon. It was strange she could see them, normally the smog and the city lights completely drowned them out._

_As they ominous clouds rolled closer, rumbling thunder grew louder and louder, enough that it seemed to shake her very spine. Bright flashes appeared across it, crackling lightning beginning to threaten everything around her. Soon, the clouds were upon her, and with them, a heavy rain fell in sheets. But she couldn’t feel it soaking her skin._

_She took a step forward, and that was when she noticed it._

_The rain was red._

_It was dark red, like the blood coming from a heavy laceration. It pounded down, tinting everything it touched with burgundy. Soon, the entire surface of the trees, the bridge, and the road in front of her were coated in it._

_Her hands raised in front of her face, and she saw in shock that the red rain was coating them, soaking her clothing, matting her hair. She took several steps forward, approaching the riverbank with a mounting sense of fear and dread._

_Finally, she came upon it, took a deep breath, and looked into the water._

_And nearly screamed._

_Despite the heavy rain, she could see her reflection so clearly, it was like looking in a mirror. She was covered in the red rain; it stained her white t-shirt and jeans, it got under her fingernails, it ran in her eyes. As it covered her face, its heavy metallic scent stung her nose, and that’s when she realized._

_It wasn’t red rain. It was blood._

* * *

_Brrriiiinng! Brriiiinnnng!_

The blaring alarm jolted her from her dream, and she bolted from her pillow, breathing erratic, as her eyes adjusted around her.

The alarm had brought on the lights, and her partner across the room groaned loudly, rolling out of his bunk. Sitting on the edge, Mason nodded at the clock as he pulled his jacket on.

“Why does shit always happen between midnight and four in the morning?” He grumbled, but stood none the less, jamming his feet into his boots and moving to jog out the door. “Get your ass up, Cas, we gotta go!”

She heard him get on the radio, asking dispatch for the reason for the call, as she sat up and jammed her own feet into her boots. Moving to the coat rack, she grabbed the jacket that read _C. Gordon, EMT-A_ in bold white letters against the black fabric and began fixing her long, blonde ponytail as she hightailed it to their truck. Jumping in, she turned the key as the engine rolled to life, the garage door of the station rumbling up as Mason jumped into the front seat next to her. The rain had stopped, thankfully, as she flicked the switch and the lights and sirens on the ambulance roared to life.

“We’ve got a shooting over on Washington St., Theatre District. Two adults, one child at the scene; kids claiming to have no injuries.” He explained to the girl as cars began to move to the side as they passed. “Dispatch told me both adults are showing zero signs of lividity.”

“Fuck, it’s only been, what, two days since our last body transport?” Cassandra cursed, pulling a rather sharp turn and honking impatiently at an old Buick until the driver flipped her off, but pulled to the side and let her pass.

“It’s Gotham, Cas, you’re telling me after seven months on this job that you’re surprised?” Mason cocked an eyebrow, but she only sighed, knowing he was right.

The scene was being taped off as they rolled up, and Cas put it into park as Mason jumped out, the officer nodding at them and allowing them to enter. They both rushed to the bodies, a man and a woman, both in their forties. Gunshot wound to the chest on both.

The significant amount of blood and the pulseless, apneic look of the bodies was an obvious conclusion; she guessed the bullet had probably gone clean through the heart or the aorta, maybe even the superior vena cava. Either way, it was clear both victims had lost too much blood.

They were already dead.

“Hey, I need to help them bag the bodies, can you go check on the kid?” Mason asked her as an officer approached with two large, black bags. She glanced over her shoulder to see a young boy, wrapped in a black coat, shivering on the steps. She bit her lip and stood, snatching a warm, wool blanket from the back of the ambulance and briskly jogged towards him.

Once she got within about ten feet, she slowed, keeping her steps calm and steady as she approached. The young boy’s gaze was on her shoes, but he didn’t even twitch as she came to a stop in front of him. Slowly, she crouched down and smiled gently.

“Hi.” She greeted softly, “My name is Cassandra Gordon, I’m an EMT. Are you hurt? Are you in pain?”

The boy’s brown eyes were glossy with tears, but he still didn’t move. A cold breeze swept by, biting at her exposed skin, and she saw the faintest shudder move through his body. She took an experimental step closer.

“Are you cold? I’ve got this blanket for you, if you want it.”

At first, it didn’t appear that he heard her. But then he nodded, just barely, and she swept the blanket over his shoulders, wrapping it tightly around his shivering form. He only grabbed it and pulled it closer, before finally looking into her face as she crouched in front of him. She offered the most reassuring smile she was capable of.

“Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, “No. He…he only shot my parents.”

Cassie nodded, “Well, would it be ok if I just looked you over? Just to make sure?”

Again, he hesitated, but then nodded slowly. Pulling on some gloves, she pulled out her pen light and checked his pupils, then waved a finger in front of his eyes as she gaged their response. Then, she did a quick overview of his body, making sure there were no wounds that he was ignoring due to shock and adrenaline. He and his vital signs were completely healthy, aside from an elevated heart rate and blood pressure; but then again, she’d expected that. As she did her exam, she really got a good look at him. Young, only about twelve, with curly dark hair and large brown eyes. His pale face was streaked with tears, and a jaw that had not lost all its baby fat was trembling in the cold.

“Ok,” she concluded softly, pulling the warm blanket around him again, “I’m all done. Do you have anyone that we can call? Maybe an aunt or uncle, or a sibling?”

“The police called my butler; he’s practically family.” The boy told her, voice sounding hollow. As he spoke, footsteps alerted her, causing her to look up. As she did, her blue eyes widened in surprised at the approaching figure.

Her older brother, Jim, was walking towards them, looking sorrowful. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he only shook his head, letting her know they could talk about it later. It was strange to suddenly see her big brother in a suit now instead of his police uniform; he’d only just transitioned to detective last month.

The eldest Gordon finally came to a stop beside the pair, watching the young boy carefully.

“My name’s James Gordon,” he started gently, “I’m a detective. What’s your name?”

The young boy shivered, and Jim shot a questioning glance at Cas, who shook her head subtly. Nodding in understanding, he turned back to the boy.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to talk.” He reassured him and looked over his shoulder. Cas followed his gaze, and saw an older man, maybe early forties, standing next to Sergeant Tannenbaum. She vaguely recalled Jim venting about his older partner, Harvey Bullock, and made the mental connection when a soft voice interrupted her.

“Bruce.” Both adults looked back to the boy, who raised his eyes to Jim. “My name is Bruce Wayne.”

_Holy shit_.

The _Wayne’s?_ What was the cities most influential family doing cutting through this part of town? And who the hell would gun them down? The sentence you’d catch for that was staggering, if not life-shattering.

Her brother crouched next to her, his voice softening as he looked at the boy. “Can you tell me what happened, Bruce?”

Bruce was silent, then began to sniffle before it turned into soft cries, new tears streaking his face. Quickly, Cas reached for his shoulder and began to gently rub his back, shushing him softly as Jim moved to sit next to him on the steps.

“You know, when I was about your age, a drunk driver hit our car.” He started quietly, and Cas met his gaze sadly. “Killed my dad; I was right next to him.” Leaning closer, his voice lowered. “I know how you feel right now, and I promise you; however dark and scary the world might be right now, there will be light.” He paused, staring right into the young boys eyes as his voice grew stronger. “There will be light, Bruce.”

The younger boy seemed to pause, as if mulling over the older man’s words, before speaking. “We had just gotten out of the movies,” he started, voice trembling, “we were walking through the alley to catch an uptown cab…and a man came out of the shadows. He was tall, and had a hat, and gloves.” He paused, before adding, “And shiny shoes. He took my dad’s wallet, and my mom’s necklace.” A fresh wave of tears brimmed on his eyes before spilling down his cheeks as he concluded, “And then he shot them, for no reason.”

Cas rubbed his back again, throwing her older brother a stern glance. “Ok, I think that’s enough. Jim, maybe you could question him at another time, when he’s warmer, maybe?”

The detective caught onto the note in his baby sister’s voice and nodded, but Bruce continued as if he hadn’t even heard her. “I should’ve done something!” He cried, “But I was too scared!”

“There was nothing you could’ve done to stop what happened.” Jim told him firmly, shaking his head as he denied the boys misplaced guilt. “But there is something you can do now.”

Bruce looked back up at him, tears slowing, as he continued.

“Be strong. Be strong, and I _promise_ you, I will find the man who did this.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming, and the trio looked over to see a well-dressed, older man, roughly in his fifties. He rushed under the crime scene tape, and Bruce threw the blanket off, bolting towards him.

_So this is the butler,_ Cas connected mentally, hanging back as her brother approached the man.

“James Gordon.” He introduced.

“Alfred Pennyworth.” The butler responded in a British accent, looking shocked and horrified at the scene around him as he hugged the young boy close.

“We’re going to catch the guy who did this, sir.” Jim told him firmly, but the butler only raised his eyebrows.

“New boy, are you?”

“You could say that.”

Alfred nodded, and told him “Good luck, mate.” In a doubtful tone before turning to Bruce. “Come.”

As they walked away, Cassie approached her brother, standing beside him as they watched the pair leave. She could hear Alfred instructing the young boy to keep his head up, to not anyone see him cry. She turned to her brother, but neither could speak. They could only watch as the last member of the Wayne family, only twelve years old, walked away.

And as she looked to her right, she could’ve sworn she saw red in the rain puddle next to her.

* * *

“So, the paper tells me you’re a hero.” Cassie teased big brother as she finished wrapping her hands.

Jim didn’t even look up from where he was standing in the middle of the mat, only shrugging. “Well, I’m not supposed to be. I did my job, Cas, and I kept my promise.” He looked up as she approached him, the fan in the corner whirring quietly in the room. The siblings always met at this warehouse all the time; four times a week, to be specific. Jim insisted that she had hand-to-hand combat training, and they both needed a workout.

It had only been four days since the shooting in the alley; Jim and his partner, Harvey, had caught the guy after he ran during questioning and attempted to stab Jim. Harvey had saved his life, and maybe Cas didn’t know the man very well, but she was grateful to know that someone even the least bit confident was looking after her impulsive older brother.

From the moment of her birth, Cassandra and James Gordon had been inseparable. Their father was killed when Jim was ten and their mother was about six months pregnant with Cassie. The horrific event had shocked and stressed her mother to the point of sending her into premature labor. The youngest Gordon was born barely three pounds, and had the umbilical chord wrapped around her neck, her little body blue and cold. The doctor and nurses had attempted to revive her, and were just about to call it when she suddenly sucked in a breath, began waving her little fists, and let out a scream too powerful and loud for such a small thing.

Jim, struggling through the death of his father, had become immediately attached to his sister. As the small family worked through their grief, he changed her diapers, fed her bottles, played with her constantly, and had even been the first person baby Cassie gave her first real smile to. When she first entered grade school, it became clear she carried the traditional attributes of a Gordon. Hard-headed, confrontational, and unafraid of anything that most people would have the good sense to be afraid of. She lost count of how many times her big brother had to step in when she got too bold with the bigger boys in her class, but he’d never complained, or gotten mad at her. When she was fifteen, she’d punched a boy in the jaw when he pulled up her skirt at school. Jim, at the time, was just finishing the police academy, having just gotten out of the military. When their mother sent him to pick her up, he refused to berate her, as the principal had been insisting on. Instead, he threatened the older boy with possible arrest, yelled at the staff, then took Cassie out for a bacon cheeseburger and a chocolate shake, her favorite.

When their mother passed, not even a year later, it was Jim that had taken her in. It was due to his sacrifices that she was able to obtain her EMT-B license while still in high school, and his good word had gotten her a job on the ambulance right after graduation. Now, just over a year later, they’d both been promoted. Jim with detective, and Cassie with her advanced license.

Gotham had only gotten worse, not that either of the Gordon’s were surprised in the slightest. Maybe that’s why she stayed behind, even though she hated the city. Jim on his own never thought anything through, and she was terrified that one day, he was going to run into something he had no true knowledge of how to handle, and she’d open her door to Harvey and another officer, sorrow on their faces, as they broke the news to her that the last person on this Earth she truly cared about, was dead.

“So, are we going to get to me putting you on the mat, or are you too busy in La-La land?” Jim’s teasing broke through her thoughts, and she looked over at him, smirking.

“I find that hilarious, seeing as I’ve won the last three rounds.” She shot back, and they both got into a fighting stance.

They were there for close to two hours, sparring, working out, stretching, and just talking. Catching up on their daily lives. They technically owned their small basement apartment together, but Jim spent most of his time with his fiancée, Barbara, in her high-priced loft.

Finally, once they were done, she bid her brother goodbye, shrieking in opposition as he pulled her into a sweaty, damp hug, and shoved him away as she laughed. Finally, she saw on her watch it was already nine o’clock, so she packed up and left.

* * *

Jim watched his sister carefully as she climbed into her car, throwing one more smile at him before driving away. He always watched her approach her car, and ensured she’d made it onto the freeway just above the warehouse before leaving himself. Gotham was dangerous, and his baby sister insisted on staying close to him so long as he worked with the GCPD, so that meant he needed to watch out for her.

It wasn’t anything new; he’d been watching out for Cassie since she was born. After watching his father die, he’d been guilt-ridden for years to come, constantly wondering if he could have done something different. When Cassie was born, not even a week after the accident, he realized he might be able to fix it this time. He could protect his family, his mother and his sister. So, that’s exactly what he did.

His watch beeped at him, and he glanced down to see it was now nearing nine-thirty; he’d spent almost a half hour packing up and lost in his thoughts. Grabbing the key, he stashed it in the hollowed rock by the door where the buildings owner had always set it, and headed to his own car.

He and Harvey had a funeral tomorrow.

* * *

It had been a quiet few days. She didn’t go in until two days from now, so Cas found herself laid up on her couch, _The Alchemist_ propped open on her lap. One hand held the book open, while another was up by her head, quietly twirling a light blond curl around her finger, releasing it, and then repeating the process over and over again. She was just nearing chapter three when the front door burst open, nearly pushing her to her feet, but paused in seeing her older brother.

“Jim? What-?” Her brother’s face was dark, an expression she knew all too well. He reached behind their fridge, pulling out one of the small gun safe’s they had in the house to pull out his personal firearm. He turned to his sister, jaw tight.

“One of the detectives just stopped by the apartment yesterday and told Barbara that the GCPD framed and murdered Mario Pepper.” He told her darkly, and her lips parted in shock and horror, shoving the book off her lap as she came to her feet.

“Whoa, whoa, _what_? But, Jim, you and Harvey worked that case-“

“I know.” He told her grimly, voice hard, which is why I need to go reinvestigate.” He started for the door, but his younger sister’s voice stopped him.

“Wait! Wait, wait,” Cas grabbed her own boots and leather jacket, slipping them on as fast as she could. “I’m coming with you.”

“This is police business, Cassie-“

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you’re not taking your badge?” She nodded at the empty spot on his chest, where there was usually a lump sporting his formal police ID. Jim paused, looking down at his chest, then back to his baby sister, who simply raised her eyebrows.

“Ok, fine, but stay close.”

* * *

The apartment building wasn’t much better than hers; then again, she and her brother were paying the rent on a detective and EMT salary, so she probably shouldn’t talk. Cassie could hear shouts and crying babies, as well as a very strong smell of weed, liquor, cigarette smoke, and body odor lingering up and down every hallway they walked through. Once they reached the door, Jim turned to her.

“Ok, this is Mario Pepper’s widow and young daughter. They’re going to be incredibly upset, so just follow my lead.”

Cassie simply nodded firmly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as he insinuated himself slightly in front of her before knocking on the door. Soft, light footsteps padded towards them, and the door opened to reveal a tired-looking woman with long, tangled blonde hair and a black eye. Behind her, a little, red-headed girl looked up from where she was tending to some plants.

Upon seeing Jim, the blonde woman’s eyes widened, then narrowed.

“Go away.” She instructed, but her voice shook, and she moved to shut the door. But Jim stepped forward, planting his foot in front of the door frame.

“Ma’am,” he growled, “if your husband was innocent, you need to let us inside!”

That appeared to be all it took. Alice Pepper glared at them one last time before relenting, allowing the siblings to slip inside.

As someone who struggled to keep a cactus alive, Cassie was impressed with the plethora of plants in the apartment, all flourishing. Some held colorful flowers, others had strong, thick vines wrapping around the furniture next to it. The little ginger was still standing by a large fern, glaring at the Gordon’s. Upon meeting her eyes, Cas offered a small smile. She’d worked with enough abused children to know they didn’t trust easily; you had to earn it. The girl seemed taken aback by the gesture, but then scowled again.

“If your husband didn’t kill the Wayne’s, how did he come to have Martha Wayne’s necklace?” Jim started, looking cautiously around the apartment. Alice scoffed.

“You bastards planted it on him?” She guessed sarcastically, but was cut off.

“Bastards!” The young redhead interjected fiercely, and Cas bit back a smile at the small girl’s fire.

“Alice,” Jim asked gently, “why would the police have the necklace? We didn’t kill the Wayne’s.”

“So you say.” The widow shot back, then shook her head tearfully. “God knows my husband had his demons, but he never killed nobody.”

It was quiet for a beat, and as Cassie was desperately trying to think of something else, Jim interrupted her thoughts.

“Can we see his shoes?”

All three women in the room turned to him with raised eyebrows, and both Alice and Cas spoke simultaneously, confusion soaking their tones.

“Shoes?”

* * *

It didn’t take too long before the younger Gordon knew why Jim wanted to see the shoes; the man they were hunting for had impeccable aim, shiny shoes, and killed the Wayne’s even after they complied while leaving behind a witness. No mugger, even in Gotham, would take that kind of heat. Not unless they’d been hired.

And offered a _very_ hefty payment.

“Framed?” Harvey Bullock looked up from his desk, where a small mountain of paperwork sat before him. Jim wanted to present his partner with the evidence he’d found, and Cas just wanted to find out what the hell was going on with this case; it was getting crazier by the second. She sat perched on the desk next to Jim, watching the two interact carefully. Bullock had greeted her with nothing but a grunt and a soft, “How ya doin?” so it was safe to say he didn’t particularly like her, nor hate her.

“How do you figure? You were there. We framed him?” Bullock sounded doubtful, but that wasn’t deterring Jim Gordon.

“Somebody could’ve planted the necklace on Pepper for us to find; Fish Mooney could’ve set the whole thing up.” He reasoned quietly, and Cas looked around carefully, making sure no one was lingering too close as the trio continued their conversation.

“Why?” Bullock interrogated, but this time, his voice held a slightly flintier tone.

“To cover up for the real killer.” Jim leaned closer, causing his sister to do the same. “Mooney works for Falcone,” he paused, as if pondering his own words for a split second, before rushing through the last of his sentence. “Maybe Falcone wanted the Wayne’s killed.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Bullock hissed, leaning towards his partner. “Why would such a nutty idea even enter your head?”

Jim paused longer this time, looking up at Cas, and his younger sister merely cocked an eyebrow at him as if to say, _Hey, he’s your partner, you tell him._ Sighing, he whispered, “Montoya, from MCU.”

Bullock scoffed softly, “That pill-headed loony bird? _Really_? What’s her proof?”

“Wouldn’t tell me; doesn’t trust me.”

“She doesn’t _have any._ ” Harvey stressed to his younger partner, also letting his eyes flicker to the young blonde sitting near them before turning back to the paperwork on his desk. “If they did, they would’ve used it.”

“Pepper didn’t wear shiny shoes.” Jim told him, clearly losing his patience. “He didn’t _own_ shiny shoes.”

“Shiny shoes, Mother of God!” Harvey slammed his pencil down on the desk, looking around frantically, before turning back to the pair. “Just suppose, for a moment, just suppose Pepper was innocent. I _killed him._ ”

“ _We_ killed him.” Jim corrected.

“In self-defense, too.” Cassie chimed in, hoping to at least relieve some tension, but Harvey only threw a harsh glare her way before turning back to Jim.

“Doesn’t matter. We’d lose our jobs, _at least._ The case is closed, so forget about it.” Bullock turned back to his paperwork again, but Jim tried one last time.

“Even if the real killers are still out there?”

“Yes!” Bullock hissed, turning around to look the two dead in the eye. “Look, just listen to me for once, Jim. For the sake of your baby sister; forget about it.”

But, as per usual, the younger detective didn’t forget about it. After they walked away from the disgruntled partner, Jim turned to his sister, practically steaming.

“Something serious is going down here, I need to figure out what it is.”

Cassie watched him carefully, face hard. “Hey, I’m with you, ok? I want to help.”

“Cas, you’re not a detective-“

“No, I’m your _sister_ , J!” She whispered fiercely, leaning in close, “And you are my _family._ That means whatever crock of shit you’re about to get yourself into, guess what? I’m in. For the long haul, I’m in.”

Jim stared at his baby sister, wanting to be mad. Wanting to be angry, wanting to drop her at her apartment and watch her lock all the doors and windows behind her.

But just like she knew him, he knew her; she’d follow him, to Hell and back. Because he’d do the same for her.

“Ok, fine, you can come. But you stay close, and you let _me_ do the talking, yeah?”

The blonde didn’t even bother holding back her eyeroll this time, but nodded. “Ok, _fine._ Now, can we go? I’m pretty sure we’re wasting time just sitting here talking about it.”

On their way out, her shoulder accidentally bumped against another mans. She turned back, smiling apologetically, “Sorry, sir!”

The man, with combed over brown hair, a white lab coat, and glasses, simply nodded, watching with wide eyes as the pair walked out the building together.

* * *

Fish Mooney’s club was pretty cool, Cas couldn’t lie. Just the entryway was gorgeous, and as they entered the main dining room, they were presented with a well-stocked bar, a large dining area, and an empty stage. At the bar, a young man in a black and purple suit and shaggy black hair sat in front of a binder filled with papers, looking deep in concentration. Upon hearing Cassie’s heels against the floor, he looked up in surprised.

“Detective Gordon,” he greeted, then looked behind him at the tall blonde, clad in a white tank top and black jacket, who’s familiar blue eyes were staring at him with the same hard, immovable gaze as the man before him. He opened his mouth again, probably to ask who she was, but Jim interrupted him.

“Tell Mooney I’m here.”

“May I ask why?”

“No.” Jim denied flatly, before moving closer to the back of the club. Passing the young man, Cassie locked eyes with him for a minute before following her big brother, feeling his eyes trail after them as they walked away.

Jim led her further to a back hallway, moving closer to and in front of her before pushing past a red, silky curtain. They were both greeted with a large room, lavishly decorated in reds, blacks, and golds. There was ornate, expensive looking furniture surrounding them, and despite the expensive lamps and large crystal chandelier hanging above them, the lighting was low. There was a large, glossy black desk at one end, and sitting behind it was a woman, maybe thirty-five.

Cassie couldn’t deny her beauty. She had dark, mocha-colored skin and pixie cut black hair, the front bangs dip-dyed red. Large gold hoops hung on her ears, with a maroon dress that sported a high, gold collar on her neck. Upon seeing the detective, she greeted him coolly.

“James Gordon; how nice.” Fish Mooney’s voice implied it was anything but, however, one could only assume a crime boss would get annoyed when a cop came knocking. She looked behind him to see a younger woman, maybe seventeen. She was tall, not as tall as the detective, but easily five-foot-nine. A white tank top was hanging just a few inches above the waistband of her jeans, and a black leather jacket hugged her frame. Long, blonde hair ran past her shoulders, filled with curls and waves. A set of rather intense blue eyes completed her look, and Fish couldn’t help but notice how much she looked like the man in front of her.

She was, however, quite beautiful.

“The day I met you, when I was out back there with your boys…what did you and Harvey talk about?”

Fish Mooney raised a small shot glass to her lips, smirking. “Shouldn’t you ask Harvey? He’s _your_ partner. And it’s rude not to make introductions, detective; who’s your friend?”

“She’s not-“ Jim started to attempt to divert attention away from his sister, but she cut him off.

“Cassandra.” She introduced herself flatly, ignoring the glare he shot her way before they both turned back to Fish.

“I’m afraid he might lie.” Jim picked up again with a grim look, and Fish hummed.

“He might,” she mused, and footsteps caught Cassie’s attention as the woman talked. Turning around, the blonde’s eyes widened a fraction as two men walked into the room, clad in dark suits and equally dark, menacing expressions. Fish smirked at the siblings. “And you think I’ll tell you the truth?”

“Jim.” Cassie warned lowly, nodding to the men behind them. The eldest Gordon looked at the bodyguards, before turning back to Fish, his expression never once changing or giving away any emotion.

“You just did.”

He started to turn away, placing a hand on his sister’s shoulder, but Fish interrupted them.

“James, wait,” she ordered, standing from her chair to walk round her desk. Stopping in front of the siblings, she watched them both carefully. “You have a little danger in your eye.” She told him, her eyes flickering to Cassie, “And you; you’ve got some fire in yours.” She turned back to Jim, smirking dangerously. “I wonder what you plan to do with that.”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Jim half-growled, his grip on his sister’s shoulder tightening, and Fish shook her head, face drawing into a frown.

“I hate surprises.”

As if taking cue from a trainer, the two bodyguards lunged at them like dogs. Cassie’s arm immediately flew up, blocking a hefty blow that was coming towards her head, and delivered her own fist into her attacker’s gut. He stumbled back, and she whipped around, slamming her foot into his chest. This sent him straight to the ground, and she whipped around just in time to see Mooney slam a lamp onto her older brother’s head, sending him heavily to the floor with a loud _thump!_

“Jim!” She cried, moving to attack Fish, but an arm circled around her throat, locking her in. She gasped, kicking angrily at the smirking woman and clawing at the arm that held her. But the man was stronger, and larger. The more she fought, the harder he was squeezing, and it was really starting to hurt. Tutting, Fish walked towards them.

“So,” she crooned, “what’s a beautiful young thing like yourself doing running around and getting mixed up with a detective, hm?”

Cassie glared, still struggling angrily with the man. Her oxygen flow was getting lower, and the world was getting dark around the edges, but she fought to stay awake. At her silence, Mooney shook her head.

“Knock her out. Don’t kill her yet, I want her alive. She’s clearly important to him-“

The crime boss said something else, but Cas couldn’t hear her anymore. The darkness finally closed in, and she sunk into oblivion.

* * *

When she came to, the first thing she noticed was the ache in her arms. She shifted, groaning softly as she pulled herself from into consciousness, and soon realized why. She was dangling; arms strung up above her with chains that were starting to cut into her skin. She shifted, and realized the balls of her feet were just barely grazing the floor; her shoes were gone. Where the hell had her shoes gone? A cold draft caused goosebumps along her arms, shoulders, and stomach, and she realized with a start that her jacket was missing, too, leaving her in nothing but a tank top and her skinny jeans.

_What…_

It all came rushing back, and her eyes flew open in fear and horror. It was only then that the smell hit her, and she nearly gagged. She was surrounded by pigs, strung upside down, cut open. Meat market; the butcher area, she was pretty sure. Her breathing picked up, and she looked around frantically. A small prick of relief hit her chest upon seeing her brother. He was also strung up, but he was upside down, and still out. But she could see the rise and fall of his chest, and that was enough for her.

“Hey, look who’s awake!”

The voice, one she didn’t recognize, caused her to look over to her right. There were three men; one was setting up a camera, (what the hell?) another was standing over a large tray that held something she couldn’t see, and the other man was walking towards her, smiling mockingly as he rolled up the sleeves of his violet, button down shirt. Getting closer, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar, brown leather wallet, and Cassie felt her heart jump into her throat.

“Cassandra Lillian Gordon; five-foot-seven, blonde hair, blue eyes, born October 31st, 1983.” He paused, mocking placing the wallet against his chin. “So, that makes you, what, about nineteen? Yeah, nineteen three months ago, am I right?”

Cassie didn’t say anything simply continuing to glare at him. He chuckled dryly, tossing the wallet to the man at the camera, and slid over to her, stopping a little too close for comfort. “Ah, so you’re legal.” He whispered tauntingly, reaching up to play with a blonde curl. “That’s good; see, I like ‘em young, but I’m not a monster, y’know? I still like them informed, just,” he looked her up and down, and she fought back a shudder, “supple.”

Unable to take it anymore, her temper got the better of her and she spat as hard as she could, right into his eye.

The man froze, closing his eyes, then reached up to slowly wipe it away. Shaking his hand off, he turned back to her, face darkening. She met his gaze, refusing to back down, but was unable to move when he swung his fist forward, slamming it into her gut.

All the air in her lungs escaped her body at an alarmingly quick rate, and she sagged against the chains, almost unable to hold her wait as the man chuckled darkly. “Oh, you and I are going to have a real blast, sweetheart,” he taunted, “just let me finish up with your brother, and I’ll get to you, ok?”

As he spoke, she heard a familiar groan and looked down, still panting slightly, to see Jim slowly coming to. The man holding the camera walked to the other side of the siblings, and the man in the purple shirt spoke up, looking irritated.

“Hey, what are you doing? Shoot over here, you’ll get a better angle.”

The one with the camera scoffed, “What, you’re a director now?”

“Don’t get fresh.” Purple shirt snapped, “I’m just sayin’.”

“Cassie? What-“ Jim started, but cut off with another groan. She winched; all that blood rushing to his head wasn’t going to be doing him any favors in the near future. They needed to get away, and fast. She was looking around frantically when loud, familiar footsteps caused her to look over, confusion washing into her bloodstream.

“Hey, Butch!” Harvey Bullock greeted loudly, holding up his hands while speaking in a faux Italian accent. He noticed her, eyes widening a fraction, but didn’t draw any attention to it.

“Harvey.” Purple shirt-or, Butch- stated flatly, looking annoyed. “Who told you we’d be here?”

The detective shrugged, “Everybody knows this is where you take your problems.” He pointed to Jim, “That’s my partner you got right there.” He then nodded at Cas, “And that’s his baby sister. She’s nineteen, Butch, what the hell does Mooney want with a kid?”

“Ex-partner,” Butch corrected smugly, then shot Cassie a lecherous look, “and Fish doesn’t want this little thing dead. She wants her alive, but she sure looks nice all strung up like that, doesn’t she?”

Cassie didn’t bother to hide her sneer, and Harvey glared at Butch before nodding at his pocket, where the lump of cellphone could be seen.

“Let me talk to Fish.”

The two walked off, far enough away she couldn’t hear what they were saying, and the other two goons followed. She turned to Jim, who was starting to look worse and worse as he continued to hang upside down.

“J, don’t worry, alright? You said it yourself, Harvey’s street smart, he’ll get us out of this, ok?”

She tried to be soothing, but she wasn’t sure how well it was working. Her older brother nodded at her, though, and gave what she assumed what supposed to be a reassuring smile. Finally, the older detective walked back over to the two of them. Crouching next to Jim, he looked between the siblings as Jim spoke up.

“Hey, how you doin?” Jim asked, part joking, and Harvey nodded.

“I’m good. We’re going home.”

Standing, he looked around at the goons, not appearing to notice Butch coming up behind him.

“Gentlemen, I’m just glad everything could work out-“

“Harvey, watch out-!” Cassie screamed, but too late. Butch slammed his fist against the back of Harvey’s head, sending him straight to the ground. She felt her heart plummet, watching in disbelief as the other two goons began stringing Harvey up next to Jim. Groaning, she started tugging her hands against the chains, desperate for a way out.

_Ok, think, think! Looks like there’s a garage door down there, if I can get my hands out maybe I can snag a gun and get them to cut Jim and Harvey down- no stupid, that won’t work, cause they also have guns! Alright, um, maybe if I acted weak I could convince them I’m not a threat? Act unconscious and get them to untie me? Yeah, but what then? You still don’t have a weapon!_

Her thoughts were interrupted when Harvey began to slowly come to. Both men were now upside down, and it was clear the amount of blood rushing to Jim’s head was really starting to mess with him. She pulled harder at the chains, biting back a moan of pain as they scraped at her wrists; she could feel layers of skin slowly peeling away.

“How you doin’?” Harvey asked Jim in a strained, casual tone.

“Been better.” Her brother groaned, then nodded at him. “Thanks for trying to help.”

“Wish I hadn’t.” Both men turned to Cassie, “You alright, baby Gordon?”

“I will be, as soon as I get my hands out of these damn chains.” She ground out, yanking on the bindings with each word. But it wasn’t much use when it came to a fight between a one-hundred-and-twenty-six pound teen and metal shackles.

“Hey, Butch!” Harvey yelled at the man, who was arguing with the other guy about the camera. Butch sighed, shaking his head at them.

“Look, fella’s, if it was up to me, you’d get a bullet in the head and a decent funeral. But,” he shrugged, “Fish has her ways.”

Turning away, he faced the garage door Cassie had just been eyeing. “Yo, Franky! Showtime!”

As if out of a horror movie, the door slowly rumbled up, revealing a massively large man clad in an old-fashioned execution uniform, with the black mask to top it off. Normally, the over dramatic sight would made Cassie at least snort, but the blonde had other things on her mind. She started struggling harder with her bindings as the man got closer, picking up a rather large butcher’s knife. He cocked his head at her, then started walking towards her brother and his partner.

Cassie’s heart leapt to her throat as she watched him walk towards Jim, and she threw her foot forward, slamming it hard into the guys kidneys. Not much, but she couldn’t just let Jim die.

If only it had actually _done something._

The kick didn’t even make the man stagger, and Jim’s eyes widened in horror as the knife-wielding man turned to his sister, shoulders tensing.

“No! Cas-“

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence.

A loud rumbling caught her off guard, and she struggled to look over her shoulder. Light was pouring in, as if someone had opened a door, but her curiosity was cut off by the loud sound of gunshots. She yelped and ducked her head, praying none of them were hit with a stray bullet. She couldn’t see the shooters, but she did see the men drop, one by one, as the rounds slammed into their chests. Finally, Butch was the only one left standing.

It appeared the criminal had at least some nugget of common sense, because he dropped his handgun and held up his hands by his head, clearly surrendering as the group of men rounded the corner. One man, older than the rest, stopped in front of him. He had to be at least sixty-five, quite possibly older, but was far from fragile or weak. His weathered face was hard, gray eyes stormy, and jaw set as he stopped in front of the younger man.

“Don Falcone.” Butch’s greeting threw her for a second, and she barely stopped her jaw from hitting the floor when she realized who had saved them.

“Forgive me, young man, I forget what your name is. Or perhaps I never knew it.”

“Gilzean, sir.” Butch said lowly, keeping his eyes on the floor. Falcone nodded.

“Gilzean; tell Miss Mooney she’s too impetuous. If she wants to kill policeman,” his eyes raised to Cassie, still strung up like a prisoner, “or an innocent girl, she has to ask permission.” He paused, crouching in front of the now-red-faced partners. “There are rules.”

Turning away, he quietly instructed his men to cut them down before stopping at Cassie. “Come undo this woman’s shackles, Gilzean. Now.”

“That’s right, there are _rules_!” Harvey emphasized loudly, clearly just happy to be alive as the don’s men began hacking at their ropes.

Butch didn’t bother to question Falcone’s orders, pulling an old, rusty looking key out of his pocket and jamming it into the padlock on the chains. There was a loud click, and the sound filled her with relief. However, once the pressure was gone from her wrists, her legs buckled, having been out of use for so long. Her breath caught as the floor rushed up to greet her, but a large pair of hands caught her, shifting her so she was sitting on the floor. She looked up to see Don Falcone crouched in front of her, watching her carefully.

“Careful, young one,” he instructed quietly, but firmly, “you need to warm up your legs.” He stood, instructing one of his men to retrieve her jacket and boots.

She sat, shivering, as her brother fought to clear his head and began to shift towards her. She watched the don, confused, but didn’t speak.

_What just happened?_

* * *

Falcone wanted to talk to Jim; he’d sent her off with Harvey, saying something about how the conversation wasn’t meant for children. The statement rubbed her the wrong way, but she wasn’t going to let her pride get the better of her at the moment. He did, after all, just save her brother’s life.

Jim dropped her off at his car, asking her to drive over to Barbara’s place and ensured her the woman would take care of her. It was an unspoken request she didn’t mention the specifics of what happened.

Upon arriving at the apartment, her future sister-in-law looked horrified at her current state, and ushered her inside, giving her some fresh, warm clothes and reassuring her that she could use the shower as long as she wanted.

Cassie wasn’t sure how long she spent in there, just standing under the hot water. The temperature was scalding, but she’d always preferred her showers burning. Once the stream began to cool, she knew it was time. Switching the water off, she dried herself and then rubbed the steam away from the mirror, pausing to look at her reflection.

It was clear she hadn’t slept in a while; given how pronounced the dark circles under her eyes were. She’d untangled her blonde curls with a comb she’d found, trying to ignore the ache in her shoulders.

It wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.

Barbara had prepared some tea for the both of them when she finally got to the living room, but she couldn’t drink it. The two women didn’t speak, but even under different circumstances, they probably wouldn’t. Neither she nor Barbara were each other’s biggest fans. Barbara was nice enough, but she came from a completely different background than Cassie and Jim did. Rich, big house, both parents, expensive education. Not that it was her fault that they’d suffered so much, (that would just be immature to have that as her reasoning) but the two had only one thing in common: Jim. And as long as her big brother was happy and safe, Cas would keep her mouth shut as much as necessary.

Finally, a knock at the door caused them both to look at it, then at each other. Barbara stood, clearly shaking, and walked quickly to the door. The younger blonde also pulled herself to her feet, shoulders tense, desperate for the one person she was hoping for to be standing on the other side of that door. Barbara paused, taking a deep breath at the door, before flinging it open.

Cassie nearly collapsed back onto the couch in relief.

Jim stood at the door, looking even worse than she had. His face was covered in dirt and sweat, and his hand was wrapped in gauze. His fiancée surged forward, wrapping her arms around him as her shoulders began to shake, and the siblings locked eyes. The younger Gordon watched her brother with scared and confused eyes, silently asking him what the hell happened. What had Falcone said? Where had he and Harvey gone after they dropped her off?

But he only shook his head slightly, clearly giving her a message: _Don’t talk about it. Not here._

As the couple hugged, Cas ran a hand over her face and walked to the large, all-glass wall, staring out into the city. Thunder rumbled, and she realized storm clouds were rolling over them.

Storm clouds that looked just like the one’s in her dream.


	2. CHAPTER TWO: SELINA KYLE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, full disclosure: this is very much a filler chapter. But fear not! I'll have a much better one up and running for you by the weekend, hopefully. Work has kind of been nuts, so there hasn't bee much time for any of my stories, and I'm really trying to get this one off the ground. Anyway, enjoy!

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since their kidnappings/near deaths.

Two weeks since they got unfortunately involved with the mob.

Two weeks since Jim had put a bullet in Oswald Cobbelpot.

And two weeks and a day since Cassie had felt normal.

It had felt like a constant rotation of shifts, training with Jim, warming up frozen dinners, and pushing herself harder than ever when it came to protecting herself. She’d applied for a new gun permit, wanting to be able to physically carry one with her and not just have a single one in the apartment. After telling her what he did to Cobbelpot, Jim had made her swear to never tell Barbara. Personally, Cassie thought that was a bit risky, but Barbara wasn’t her fiancée, so she agreed.

Finally, on her first day off since the incident, she found herself unable to wait around the apartment anymore; she felt like she might be losing her mind.

So, she walked into the GCPD, eyes roving the area for a familiar buzzed head. Unfortunately, that meant she wasn’t paying any particular attention to where she was walking, so she nearly fell back when her shoulder smacked into another person. She stumbled slightly, cursing in surprise under her breath before turning back around. “I’m sorry, sir-“

Her apology was cut short when she saw who she was speaking to; ironically enough, it was the same guy she’d ran into on the way out the door to Mooney’s club.

“Oh wow, that’s what, twice now?” She asked, snorting, “I’m so sorry, I’m just such a klutz.”

“No, no!” The man stuttered out, shaking his head, “Uh, I was just wrapped up in work,” he held up a manilla envelope, “It’s I that should be apologizing to you.”

Cas had to chuckle quietly at his demeanor; he was so shy, it was almost cute. Nodding, she stuck her hand out with a friendly smile. “Cassandra. You?”

He looked surprised by her introduction, and seemed to stare at her hand for a second in confusion, before scrambling to stick the folder under his arm and take her hand, shaking it. “Edward.”

“So, Edward,” the blonde started, “what do you do here?”

“Oh, I’m forensics.” He stated with a proud smile, showing her his badge. Sure enough, stamped in large black letters, it read _Edward Nygma, Forensic Specialist._

“Oh, that’s pretty cool! Yeah, I think my brother may have mentioned you before; you like riddles, right?”

At the mention of the word _brother,_ he looked confused. “Oh, you have a family member in the department?”

“Cassie.” Speak of the devil; Jim walked up to his sister, looking confused. “What are you doing here? I thought it was your day off.”

“It is.” She nodded, biting her lip, “But I kind of needed to talk to you.” Realizing Ed had seemed to start to shrink away, she spoke up again. “I was just meeting Edward; he tells me that he works here in forensics.”

“Oh, right,” Jim looked over, a half-forced smile on his face as he gestured between the two, “Ed, this is my baby sister, Cassandra. She an EMT.”

Ed looked even more freaked out by the introduction but rushed forward to shake her hand again before practically yanking his hand back. “Right. Well, it’s been a pleasure, Gordon’s, but I’m afraid I must be going. Lots of paperwork to do.” And then, he was gone, stumbling off towards the back of the building.

Once he was out of earshot, Jim turned back to his sister, looking less than pleased. “Cas, I thought I was being incredibly clear,” he told her in a hushed tone, “you’re not supposed to be out and about more often than necessary; it’s hard to know how much Mooney and Falcone have on you.”

“Well, seeing as I’m your sister and I was also strung up in that butcher’s room,” she stated in a sarcastic tone, “I’m guessing more than either of us would like.”

“Cassie-“

“Jim, hey,” Suddenly, Harvey was approaching them, and Cas felt herself tense. The older detective was under the impression that Jim had killed Cobbelpot and she was completely in the dark on the whole situation; apparently, both Falcone and Mooney had been incredibly specific on the fact that she wasn’t told any details. The blonde had to guess they were reluctant to create any possible loose ends, not that she was complaining.

“Look, we’re going to see if we can talk to Fish about the kids.” Harvey started explaining, “I can’t tell if she’s still mad at us or not, but it can’t hurt to try.”

“Kids?” Both detective’s looked over as the younger girl perked up slightly, “What about what kids?”

“It’s nothing-“

“Well, it’s this new thing-“

Both men started talking at once; Harvey to deny it, Jim to explain. The younger man glared at Harvey, and he backed away slightly, before Jim turned back to his sister.

“Look; we had a kid come in earlier today. Said a couple snatched up several of his friends and tried to abduct him with some kind of-“

“Pen?” She finished his sentence, her brain starting to piece things together. Both detective’s paused and stared at her with wide eyes.

“Wait, how the hell did you know that?” Harvey asked, eyes narrowing. Cassie rolled her eyes.

“Relax, Harvey, a friend of mine I went to school with was the paramedic on that scene. The kid told him the same story.” She shrugged, “Look, I can tell by the looks on your faces that you’re having a hard time believing it, but the neck has lots of blood vessels, and almost all of them are pretty major. Slamming a needle through the skin that’s laced with some kind of sedative is definitely an efficient way of dropping someone quickly and quietly.”

Harvey paused for a second, then spoke up. “Alright. Well, you know what baby Gordon? I think we’ll as Fish about this, see if she agrees. But it was nice talking to you-“

“I’m coming with you.”

The pair had started to walk out but stopped upon hearing her declaration and turned around to see her following them. Harvey scowled, and Jim shook his head vehemently.

“No, Cas, out of the question. It was beyond irresponsible of me to take you last time, it’s not happening again.”

“ _Irresponsible?_ ” Cassie repeated, feeling her chest start to bubble with annoyance and anger. “Look, Jim, I get that you’re looking out for me, but I’m nineteen years old, ok? That means, even if you _didn’t_ let me come, I could just, I don’t know,” she shrugged, “go over there at midnight tonight and drink by myself at the bar while I seduce one of her employee’s to get some info-“

“Ok, ok!” Her older brother cut her off, looking slightly panicked and a little disgusted, “Fine. We’ll take you along as a consultant.”

“We will?” Harvey looked shocked and more than little pissed, but Jim only nodded.

“Yes. That way, you’ll technically be under our protection. And you’re currently a working first responder, so we can always use that to back it up.”

Harvey groaned as the trio now walked out to his car. “Great, as if one of you wasn’t enough…”

* * *

Though the club was still beautiful, just being inside filled Cas with anxiety. Her hands, stuffed inside the pockets of a warm leather jacket, fiddled nervously as she trailed after Jim and Harvey, eyes going over the different employee’s that were setting up for the night.

“Harvey, Jim,” Fish greeted, her eyes falling to the younger girl, “and Cassandra. How marvelous.”

“Are you still mad at us?” Harvey asked hesitantly, holding his hat between his hands. Cas couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows, wondering what was going on or had previously gone on between the two. Fish paused, then shook her head, smirking.

“No, please,” she and Harvey greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek, “I’m quite fond of you. And you,” she turned to Jim, “Intrigue me. I also see you brought fiery little Cassandra with you today.” The crime boss’s smirk widened at the sight of the younger woman. “Of course, I always like seeing women step up to the plate when the men need assistance.”

“Thanks.” Cassie replied simply; she didn’t want to get into a verbal spar with the woman, not at that moment. They had more important things to worry about. Fish only nodded, chuckling.

Fish watched her face for a beat before turning back to Jim and Harvey, “I knew I’d regret killing you as soon as I gave the word, but you know me.” She shrugged a little, “I’m feisty.”

“What do you know about a man and a woman abducting street kids on your turf?” Jim asked, voice firm. Of course, her big brother was all business when it came to criminals. Especially since he was on enemy territory; Cas could see the tension in his shoulders.

“No foreplay with you, hmmm?” Fish responded lightly, but she paused, eyes flickering to Cas. “Cassandra, be a dear; this part of the story isn’t for you.” She looked back to the men, “I’ll talk to you, but she waits outside.”

Cas opened her mouth to protest, but Jim turned back, lowering his head to speak in a whisper to her.

“Cassie, please. Just wait right outside the door, ok? Please.”

She felt her jaw set, and she wanted to argue, _badly._ But if she took a wild guess, it would be that they were about to mention some stuff about Falcone and Penguin, and she technically wasn’t supposed to know. Finally, she gave a defeated sigh and walked out, feeling their eyes burning into her back.

* * *

From what Jim and Harvey would tell her, (thought it wasn’t much) there was flack to Macky’s story. New buyer overseas, looking for young, healthy ‘products’. Jim had told her they got a hit on the ATP, a drug found in Macky’s system, and were going to check out one of the companies but had forbidden her from joining them. Apparently, Essen had thrown a fit over a civilian being put at risk of being caught in the crossfire.

But did that stop her?

No, it did not.

So that’s why Cassandra found herself crouched at the back door of Quillan Pharma, her own gun strapped inside her jacket. She, of course, hadn’t followed Jim and Harvey there. She was simply walking by the store’s back entrance and ‘happened’ to hear something suspicious.

Or, at least she was hoping to hear something soon, as to justify why she was working on picking the lock.

Biting back a curse as her second bobby pin broke, she pulled another one from her pocket with a sigh. It had looked a lot easier in the book; she was hoping this was the time she’d succeed. She was running out of bobby pins, and who knew when something would go down.

As if someone above her heard the prayer, there was a soft _click_ and the doorknob gave way, turning and allowing her to push the door in. As silently as she was capable, she slipped inside and quietly shut it behind her, pulling her gun out. She double-checked the corners, but couldn’t see anybody, and could hear several voices coming from down the hall. As she walked closer, she realized with a start that two of the voices belonged to her brother and his partner; so they’d arrived around the same time. Good, she could use that in the future if Essen pulled her in to question her after this.

She paused at the end of the hallway; the blonde didn’t particularly want any of the parties involved to know she was there yet, maybe she could find something while she was hiding. Her footsteps were soundless as she slid along the hall, checking over her shoulder occasionally. But there was no one there.

She was about to start on a locked door when loud gunshots sounded, making her jump. Shouting and cursing followed, and flashes lit up the dark hallway from under the door as the guns fired. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she silently begged that Jim was ok as she readied her own gun and ran towards the confrontation.

But a heavy, metal door stopped her. There was a large padlock on it, but as she grabbed it, she realized it hadn’t been locked all the way. The thought made her realize that meant whoever was supposed to lock it might still be around, she had to act fast.

With as much strength she could muster, she shoved the door open, the gunfire drowning out the creaking. Stumbling through, she raised her gun-

-and stopped, lowering it.

A small group of teens, maybe about seven, all stood up in alarm. Their faces were smudged with dirt, and their stick thin frames were covered in layers of ratted clothing. It was like a cell; complete with some chains on the wall and a big, seemingly bottomless hole in the fucking ground, whatever that was about. She checked around the room quickly before holstering her gun, looking at the kids.

“You guys ok?”

Several of the teens nodded, and she returned it. “Ok, good.” She paused, trying to come up with a plan to get them out. That gun fight wouldn’t last forever, so maybe-

Since the universe seemed to hate her, the noise completely ceased right as the thought crossed her mind. Cussing loudly, she ran over and shut the door, looking around for some type of vent, maybe something big enough to send the kids out of one by one.

“Alright, kids, we need to get you out of here. My name is Cassandra, ok, and-“

But she didn’t get to finish her sentence. The large door banged open, and she yanked her gun out as she whirled around, coming face to face with another barrel.

An old man dressed in a dirty janitor’s uniform glared at her from behind the gun, finger already on the trigger.

“Drop the gun.”

But she didn’t, even though she could barely stop her hands from shaking. She stayed, rooted to her spot. The old man growled, pulling his hammer back.

“I said, _drop the gun.”_

“You first.” She shot back, her muscles coiled tight. But the janitor only sneered.

“Fine. I guess I’ll just kill all of you then.”

He started to press the trigger, right as Cas went to shoot him. But then a familiar blonde head rounded the corner, and her big brother, upon seeing her, yelled loudly.

“Hey!”

Hearing the new threat, the janitor turned and fired, but his aim was sloppy. The bullet whizzed by Jim’s arm, and he pulled his own trigger right as Cassie jumped out of the way. The bullet hit him right in the chest, causing him to gasp and begin to choke, as he stumbled backwards and over the railing, his body tumbling down the hole.

Panting slightly, Cassie turned back around to her brother to find him glaring at her, gun lowered to his side. She nodded at him, raising her gun slightly.

“Hey.”

To say Jim was pissed was probably an understatement. He’d been fuming, practically unable to speak when they called in some more cars to and an ambulance to pick up the kids. Of course, most of his anger could have come from the fact that Essen was even more livid that she had been at the crime scene, _again._ If it had been lawful, Cassie was pretty sure the commissioner would have had her gun taken away.

The next day, she sat on the couch, watching the press conference with a grim expression. When the mayor announced his plan to ‘protect’ the youth, she didn’t even need to see Jim, Essen, and Harvey’s faces to know they were thinking the same thing she was; it wasn’t protection, it was a way to get homeless, parentless children off the street in a way that required no trial and very little contact with CPS and any other government organization that handled children’s rights.

In short: it was disgusting.

When he’d finally calmed down, Jim had called her.

The conversation had gone about as well as she expected.

_“Damn it, Cas, what did I tell you?”_

The blonde sighed through her nose, leaning her had back as her older brother went off. She was still in her apartment, leaning up against her kitchen table, as he berated her.

_“You can’t keep doing this, Cassie, you’re not a cop!”_

“No, but like you said, I am a first responder, so why can’t I help?” She shouted back, his authoritative tone starting to piss her off.

_“Because you’re too young, Cas-“_

“Too young?! Shit, Jim, I’m not sure why everyone keeps forgetting this, but I’m _not_ a child, for hell’s sake! That means I can make my own decisions!”

_“Yeah, legally you can, but that doesn’t mean they’re informed decisions, Cassandra, so next time you need to listen to me!”_

“Why?” She demanded, feeling her rage starting to hit a boiling point. “Why do I have to listen to every damn order you throw at me, huh, Jim?!”

_“Because I’m responsible for you, damn it!”_

“Oh, you’re responsible for me? Who the hell do you think you are, my father?”

She regretted the words the second they flew past her lips. She closed her eyes, sighing. A hand came up and raked through her hair as she took another deep breath, trying to calm down. “Look, Jim, you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep treating me like I’m still thirteen years old; I’m a big girl, and I can look out for myself.”

Silence followed her statement, and she actually thought he was about to hang up when his voice came back through, a little quieter.

_“Ok, Cassie, listen: I understand you’re an adult now. And I know the whole reason you’re sticking around Gotham is because I refuse to leave, but,”_ he paused, _“please don’t keep doing this. When mom died, she made me swear that I would make sure you were safe, and I can’t keep doing that if you keep throwing yourself headfirst into these kinds of situations.”_

A part of her was still angry; furious, even. But at the mention of her mother, she couldn’t find it in herself to yell anymore. Biting her lip, she nodded before speaking again.

“Ok. You have a point, and I’ll give you that.”

_“Good.”_ Jim’s tone held a note of relief to it. _“So, you won’t keep randomly showing up at crime scenes?”_

“How about this? I swear not to just show up unannounced anymore.”

It was obvious he didn’t like it, she heard his tired sigh loud and clear. But she also knew there wasn’t much he could do about it, so he spoke again. _“Fine. We can discuss details later, but first, I need a favor. Bruce’s butler, Alfred, asked me to speak to Bruce tomorrow. Apparently, he’s really struggling.”_

“J, his parents just died. I’d be way more concerned if he was acting completely normal.”

_“Well, that’s my point, Cas. He seemed to do really well with you at the crime scene, and I’m worried he doesn’t trust me anymore, not since Mario Pepper. Would you please come with me? Just to talk to him, get a sense of how he’s doing.”_

A dry chuckle escaped her lips, and she shook her head, tousled curls bobbing. “You know, for someone who makes it his mission to look out for me, you seem to need my assistance a lot.”

_“Yeah, yeah, just be ready to go around four tomorrow.”_

* * *

Wayne Manor was _huge._

She almost thought Jim was messing with her when they pulled up; no way did this one house only inhabit two permanent residents. But, sure enough, it did.

They were greeted at the door by Alfred Pennyworth, the butler. He was British, and a very strict man. By the way he held himself, Cassie could tell he had military training somewhere in his background; Special Forces, maybe. He held himself the same way her brother did.

Inviting them inside, he made them some very delicious tea and cookies, (sorry, _biscuits_ ) but Cas was a little impatient to hear about Bruce. He wasn’t around, and that meant Alfred had probably asked them here on the basis of attempting to get help without Bruce knowing. Cas set her cup down, looking up at the butler, who was standing behind the couch across from them.

“Tell us about Bruce. What’s going on?”

Alfred sighed, suddenly looking much more tired, and turned around to look at a family picture before speaking. “He’s not been sleeping. And when he does, he has these… _nightmares_. Now he’s hurting himself, _burning_ himself.” He whirled around, eyebrows drawn. “He’s cutting himself.”

Cassie and Jim shared a concerned look, and she licked her lips as Jim spoke.

“Is he getting professional help?”

“You mean a psychiatrist? Oh, no, he won’t have them. No psychiatrists, that’s a rule.” The butler dismissed simply, and the siblings both raised their eyebrows.

“But, can’t you bring them in anyway?” She asked as Jim stood, “You’re his guardian.”

“No,” the butler denied again, walking closer, “Bruce’s father gave me very firm orders were him and his missus to die. Now I will raise the boy the way his father told me to raise him.”

“Which is how?” By now, Cassie had also risen, and Alfred paused, looking regretful before speaking.

“Trust him to choose his own course.”

“Alfred,” Cas spoke up softly, “he’s only twelve.”

“Well, he is also a Wayne.” The older man told her, as if that explained everything, but she could hear the undertone of humor and maybe sarcasm in his voice. Jim shook his head.

“Sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

It was clear that Alfred actually seemed to agree, to an extent, and the trio sat in silence for a beat before Jim spoke up again.

“What do you want me to do?”

“He wants you to talk some sense into me.”

The new voice nearly made Cas jump five feet in the air, and she whipped around to see Bruce walking towards them, his right hand wrapped in gauze. Alfred turned to him and pointed a finger at him, looking furious.

“Haven’t I told you to stop creeping up on people like that? It’s bloody rude!”

Bruce walked closer to the siblings, and Cassie sat so she was closer to his eye line as Jim and Alfred continued to stand.

“Alright, Bruce.” Jim spoke up, “Talk to me. To us.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” The young boy stated vehemently, “Alfred’s a worrywart.”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened to your hand?” Cas interrupted in a gentle but firm voice, nodding to the gauze wrapped appendage. Bruce’s eyes fell to the floor as he spoke.

“I burned it.”

“On purpose?”

His silence was an obvious answer, and Jim stepped forward, closer to the two.

“Listen, Bruce. You’ve been through a terrible experience; talking to someone can be very helpful.”

“You must have seen terrible things in the war.” Bruce responded quickly. “Does it? Help to talk about it, I mean.”

Jim stopped, and Cas nearly let her head hang. Jim had been back from his final deployment over six years now, and she still hadn’t gotten him to talk to her about the things he’d seen, or the things he’d done. Every attempt was met with silence; not an excuse, not even a lie. Just pure silence.

“Yes.”

But Bruce wasn’t stupid, and he only shook his head. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“You’re hurting yourself-“

“I’m _testing_ myself!” The young boy cut him off, “It’s different. But I appreciate your concern.” He walked over to the tray, grabbing a cookie and biting off a piece as he sat down across from Cas. She didn’t say anything, mostly wanting him to calm back down before she tried anything. Her eyes fell to his hand. Had that been cleaned and dressed properly? Had he seen a doctor? How bad was it?

“I’ve been following your adventures in the newspapers.” He told Jim, then turned to Cassie. “And I know you’re the unnamed source that helps him and his partner occasionally. I know you’re trying to help.” He paused. “I feel very sorry for those poor children.”

Jim moved to sit next to her as she spoke, keeping her voice neutral with an encouraging undertone. “We do, too.”

“I’ll give you some money to give to them.”

Jim shook his head. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, Bruce.” He denied, “They need someone who cares for them. Like you have.” He nodded at Alfred. “Money won’t buy that.”

Bruce paused, forehead creasing as he thought. “What about clothes? They all looked awfully ragged.”

The adults all looked around, meeting each other’s gazes, and Jim nodded.

“Yeah, they did.”

At this point, Cas decided to step in. “Bruce, can I take a look at your hand? I want to make sure it’s healing alright, and not getting infected.”

The dark-haired boy looked up towards Alfred, who nodded, and stood. The two walked down the hallway, where Bruce opened the door to a bathroom and pulled out a large first-aid kit. Instructing him to sit on the toilet, she crouched in front of him and began to unwind the gauze.

“How did you get into this profession?”

It always startled her to hear him talking like such a polite grown up; as a legal adult, she still didn’t speak like that. Cassie shrugged as she started applying some cream to the healing burn.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. See, when my mother died, Jim took over custody of me since he was my only living relative. He had just gotten out of the military a couple years before, and I remember looking at him and thinking, ‘Now that’s brave. That’s my big brother.’ I spent my entire life looking at Jim, at how he acted. He was always there for me and our mom, even when we weren’t making it easy.” A memory came back, and she chuckled. “In fact, I remember this time in high school. I punched a kid so hard I dislocated his jaw, and instead of being angry, J took me out for a milkshake.”

Bruce looked shocked, but also extremely curious and intrigued. “What did the boy do to you?”

Cas shrugged. “Oh, you know, the normal teen boy crap. He was constantly hitting on me and calling me mean names, but I was already in trouble for shoving a kid up against some lockers, so I tried to let it slide off my back. Then, one day, I wore this cute new dress to school, and this same boy ran up behind me and tried to lift the skirt in the middle of the hallway. So,” she smirked proudly, “I turned around, punched him as hard as I could, and told him I’d go for his eyes next time he touched me.”

Bruce’s mouth actually dropped open, and she couldn’t hold back the laugh that escape from her gut at his expression. They sat in comfortable silence for a few more moments as she finished up cleaning the burn and applying the cream. She was just about finished re-wrapping his hand when he spoke again, this time his voice was much more contemplative.

“Did it help, when you died? To have someone else there, someone who was also young?”

Cassie nodded, looking right into the young boy’s doe eyes. “Don’t ever underestimate the power of relationships with others, Bruce. I know loneliness feels safer, but being alone at the end of your road will never be true victory. Because, if at the end of your life you’re alone on your death bed, all you’re going to want are the people you pushed away.”

* * *

Cassandra didn’t know what was happening to her city.

It wasn’t that Gotham had ever been good. Maybe once, before she was born, but the city was truly shocking her to her very core.

It had been a pretty long two weeks. She’d been working twenty-four hour shifts ever other day, meaning it was only work, sleep, and occasionally filing and paying bills. When she finally came out the other end with a secured week off, she found herself lying in bed at night and staring at the ceiling. Sleep was eluding her, despite her exhaustion.

She loved her job, truly, she did. But it was becoming increasingly exhausting, and she could feel herself reaching a burn out. It wasn’t that she wanted to quit medicine, or EMS. What she desperately wanted was a _break._ With the city beginning to spiral downwards, blood, gore, and extreme trauma’s were quickly becoming the norm. It was destroying her every single shift, and the blonde wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it.

Jim had noticed the change; in fact, he was the one who had suggested a possible job change, temporarily, so she could take a break and rest up. But where else could she work?

She finally slipped off into a warm, dreamless sleep, hoping things would be better in the morning. Jim and Harvey had caught the ‘Balloon Man’, as he called himself. Jim had seemed to be limping around after the arrest, but neither would tell her what had happened afterwards.

She was preparing some green tea that morning when she got the call. Cas frowned at the unfamiliar number, but still flipped the phone open.

“Hello?”

_“Yes, I’m looking for a Cassandra Gordon.”_

She knew the voice immediately; the British accent was pretty distinctive. “Um, this is she. Alfred, is that you?”

_“It is, miss. I’m terribly sorry for such an early call.”_

“Oh, no, you’re fine.” She waved him off as she started to pour the hot water over the tea packet, “I’ve been up for a while, I’m used to being awake at this hour for work.”

_“Well, I’m glad. In fact, speaking of work, I have a question for you, miss.”_

Cassie paused, setting the kettle down quietly before speaking. “Oh?”

_“Well, ever since your visit with Detective Gordon the other day, Bruce has been asking for something. Originally, I denied him, but now I think it might work in his favor.”_

“And what would that be?”

_“Have you any experience being a nanny, Miss Cassandra?”_

Her mug nearly slipped from her fingers in shock, and she winced as some hot tea spilled onto her hand. Fumbling, she set the hot cup down clumsily and switched on the cool water. “I’m afraid I don’t, but- I’m sorry, Mr. Pennyworth, but what exactly are you asking?”

_“I realize this is a stretch, miss, seeing as you already have a job. But I was wondering if you’d consider it, if only part time. The boy looks up to you and your brother, I want positive influences in his life. This is the first time he’s been completely ok with someone outside of myself.”_

“Mr. Pennyworth, I appreciate the gesture, I do, but I think maybe a licensed therapist might be much more beneficial.”

_“You think I haven’t thought of that?”_ She heard the bite in his tone, but a tired sigh soon followed. _“I’m sorry, miss. It’s just…suggesting it doesn’t do anything. I’m afraid the harder I push, the further he’ll pull away, and then he won’t even turn to me. Then, he’ll be truly alone.”_

Her own words came blazing to the forefront of her mind, and Cassie took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

_You’ll find yourself wanting all the people you pushed away._

It looks like someone was hearing her prayer last night.

“Look, how about we have a test day, or something? Something for him to see how he truly feels about having another caretaker in the home.”

_“I think that’s a fine idea.”_ The relief in Alfred’s voice was almost painfully obvious, but she could tell he was attempting to mask it. _“Why don’t you stop by tomorrow, say, ten o’clock? You and the boy can chat, decide what you both want. Then, if you decide, I’ll let you know your hours and pay.”_

She paused.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can see, we skipped episode three. I always thought it was kind of boring, and I couldn't see lots of places where I could naturally involved Cassie without it feeling incredibly forced, so I just let it go. We'll be picking up again halfway through episode four, 'Arkham', and there will be plenty of action and angst, believe me! Cassandra Gordon is about to see just how bad this city is truly spiraling. Anyway, I'll be seeing you guys!


	3. CHAPTER THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Enola Holmes voice* Tis I.  
> Hey guys! I hope you are all doing well and staying safe out there! Here's the next chapter, and let me just say I am SO EXCITED! We're finally getting into the more exciting episodes, and I feel like Cassie's characters is really starting to take shape! I've included some more development and a glimpse at her relationships with other characters in the show, so I really hope you enjoy it!

Wayne Manor felt even more intense the second time she was there.

Cassandra sat straight, dressed in her nicest pair of jeans and a breathable, yet professional blouse. Though she normally preferred mid-driff shirts, she figured they probably weren’t appropriate until she knew what Alfred was ok with around Bruce.

“Miss Cassandra,” the butler’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she stood, turning her head to see him rounding the couch to shake her hand. “Thank you very much for coming. He’s in the study.”

“And what would I be doing?”

“Simple things. He’s obsessed with the case of his parents, spends all hours looking through old files. I just need you to get him out, take care of him, make sure he’s seeing sunshine and eating enough.” He cast a look over his shoulder, then leaned in, lowering his voice. “I’m planning on sending him back to regular school within the next few weeks, and I’d really like someone who hasn’t been out of school too long there to help him.”

Cas bit her lip, mulling over the information, the nodded. “Ok, then. How do I get to the study?”

Bruce was pouring over a folder, eyebrows drawn, mouth pulled into a tight frown. Upon hearing her heels booties against the floor, he looked up, face relaxing just in the slightest at the sight of her.

“Cassandra,” he greeted, standing and sticking out his small hand. “How are you?”

Cas snorted, shaking his hand. “Bruce, it’s Cas, or Cassie. The only person who stills calls me Cassandra is Jim when he’s upset.” She informed him jokingly as she sat down. Bracing her elbows against her knees, she picked up a thick, manilla folder that read _Wayne._ “And what are you up to today?”

“I’m reviewing my parent’s case.” He told her simply, like they were talking about the weather. “If I can assist your brother, then maybe we can find answers quicker.”

Knowing that shutting the idea down would only backfire, Cassie nodded, glancing at the clock. “And how long have you been at it for?”

“I’ve been awake since six this morning.”

Yikes, four hours of paperwork? That made _her_ head hurt. With a quiet affirmation, she stood.

“Alright, come on.”

Bruce looked up, face dropping in confusion. “What?”

“If you go any longer without a break, it’s a proven fact that your brain will retain less and less information; trust me, I had the same idea in the first few months of my EMT training. I nearly failed out.”

“So, what do you suggest?”

Cassie nodded to the window, where rare rays of sunshine were lighting up the massive grounds, and smirked. “How do you like soccer?”

Alfred’s head perked up from where he was chopping vegetables for that night’s stew; was that laughter? Who’s?

Walking towards the window, he peered into the large backyard and his eyes widened.

Running across the lawn, completely barefoot, were Cassandra and Bruce, the two of them dodging each other and shrieking with laughter as they kicked a soccer ball. Bruce lunged to jump in front of the girl, but she danced to the side and swiped the ball between his legs, then slammed her own foot against it and sent it sailing over a jacket that was laying across the ground roughly six feet away.

He couldn’t make out her words, but the older teen raised her hands above her head and whooped loudly, spinning in a circle before wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulders and jokingly ruffling his hair. Bruce shoved her away, giggling madly, and sprinted after the ball.

A smile tugged at his lips, and he went back to his chopping, feeling somewhat lighter.

Maybe Master Bruce had been onto something.

After getting out of the manor that day, first thing Cassie did was call her supervisor and put in her notice. Not only was watching after Bruce going to be a substantial pay increase, it would actually be a job she saw herself enjoying. Childcare definitely wasn’t easy, and dealing with an impending teen was even more difficult, but Cas was never one to shy away from a challenge.

She would arrive Monday’s, Wednesday’s, Friday’s, and every other Saturday at eight every morning for the next few weeks, and would leave around five, (or later, if she wished). Once Bruce’s school began, she would be picking him up every weekday, and would stay over on Monday’s, Wednesday’s, and Friday’s. It was a great arrangement, and though he was a stoic man, Cas could tell that Alfred was eager for some assistance. He was a good man, but he clearly only understood tough love.

On her way home, she realized she was only about half a mile from the precinct; might be a good time to stop in and see how Jim was doing. She hadn’t spoken to him since last night, which was weird. He normally checked up on her about halfway through the day.

Inside, she smiled and waved at Ed, who looked surprised, but returned it none the less. However, his eyes soon diverted to someone behind her, and Cas glanced over her shoulder to see a pretty looking redhead in horn-rimmed glasses walking towards a door labeled _Forensics Annex._

A smile tugged at her lips, but she kept it down. She probably shouldn’t give Ed away if he hadn’t made his move yet. As she started for the stairs, she spotted Jim, leaning over his desk. The blonde shook her head and bounced up the steps, making sure to loudly announce her arrival.

“You know, for someone so young, you’re going to end up with some serious spine problems if you don’t stop slouching.”

Jim looked up right as she leaned on his desk, arms folded. He could see happiness dancing in his little sister’s blue eyes, meaning her interview at Wayne manor most likely went very well.

“You look happy.” He noted tiredly, but with a smile. Her own widened, and she nodded.

“Yep. Thirty-five bucks an hour for a max of four days a week, Jim. That’s money I only used to ever _dream_ of.”

He smiled at his sister’s eagerness, and brought her into a hug, momentarily forgetting about his issue. “I’m glad, Cas. You deserve a break.”

“Yeah, speaking of breaks,” his sister noted, cocking an eyebrow as they seperated, “you’ve been awfully quiet. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Jim.” Her tone dropped, face sobering. “You sucked at keeping secrets when we were little, and you’re terrible at it now. Out with it.”

The detective looked around, double-checking that no one was within earshot, then leaned forward, voice dropping to a near whisper. “Cobbelpot is back.”

Cassie’s heart plummeted; she actually felt it hit her stomach, and all the blood drained from her face. “ _What?”_

“He came by the apartment last night, Barbara was there. He didn’t tell her anything,” he cut his sister off, seeing her mouth open, “he just gave her a fake name. But I can tell she’s suspicious.”

“Why the hell is he here?” Cas hissed, fingers tightening over the edge of the desk. “Jim, if Falcone or Mooney find out you didn’t kill him-“

“I know.” He cut her off rather harshly, running his hand over his face, jaw set. “I know, ok.” His voice softened. “Listen to me; I’m not sure if he knows that you know, but you need to be incredibly careful. Do you have your gun?”

Cas shuffled her bag inconspicuously, and Jim breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Ok, just make sure you’re always watching behind you when you’re driving home. Anything suspicious, anything at all, you call me immediately, alright? I don’t know who else in the force can be trusted.”

Both siblings jumped when the phone suddenly went off. Jim grabbed it, brining it to his ear as he shifted.

“Hello?”

Cas knew something was up by the way his face dropped. He leaned forward, grabbing a pen and scribbling onto a piece of paper within her view as he responded to whoever was speaking. “What do you want?” He shoved the paper towards her, two words scrawled out.

_It’s him_.

She tried to lean forward, but Jim waved her off. She scowled, but didn’t press, trying to read his expressions and responses. He glanced over to her as Cobbelpot was speaking, then spoke.

“Who’s the target?” Long pause, forehead creasing in confusion. “All the councilmen are under police protection tonight.” Another pause, shorter than the last, and a thoughtful look descended over his face, morphing to one of panicked realization. “How do you know this?” Now he just looked very confused, and pulled the phone away from his ear, hanging it up hesitantly.

“Jim?”

He turned to her, eyes wide. “Come with me; I’m going to need help.”

He began speed walking away, and Cas jumped up, confused. But she followed, nearly jogging to keep up with his long strides as he stopped before the desk sergeant.

“I need a list of the officers working protection tonight.”

The list was short, and nothing special, but it would appear that her brother had figured something out. She kept looking at him, expecting him to explain, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled out his phone, and called a number, cursing under his breath when he got voicemail. He looked back up at her.

“Let’s go. I think I know who the next politician to be murdered is.”

The car ride was short, but just long enough for him to explain. The guy who had been whacking the councilmen casting the Arkham vote was hitting both sides, meaning both Falcone and Maroni had hired him. Bruce had already told her everything about the plan, how it had been changed since his parent’s death. The thought of the asylum reopening sent a chill down the girl’s spine. She hadn’t seen it in person, being only a toddler when it closed down, but she knew several nurses and medics who had worked there. The story’s sounded like something out of a horror movie, and several were bad enough to cause her to lock the doors a night.

Jim had figured out who the next hit was: the head honcho himself, the mayor. It wouldn’t surprise either Gordon in the slightest if Mayor James was with one of the don’s, but that wasn’t what mattered. What mattered now was ensuring he lived long enough to cast a vote.

It had begun to pour, the sunshine from earlier in the day long gone. Cassie’s shirt was soaked as soon as she stepped out of the car, rushing to check out one of the cruisers parked outside the mayor’s home. Jim did, as well, but both looked back at each other with mounting dread. There wasn’t even the barest sign of a protection detail aside from the cars.

“There’s no one here!” Cassie spoke loudly over the rain, and Jim nodded, rushing up the steps. She followed him, looking over her shoulder several times. Jim pounded on the door, shifting nervously from foot to foot. The longer they waited, the more Cas could feel her muscles winding and coiling, ready to react at a moment’s notice when someone showed up. Finally, the door opened, revealing a very confused Mayor James.

“Detective Gordon?” His gaze flitted to Cas, “Who is this?”

“Sir, there’s no time to explain. You need to come with us, I think your life might be in danger.”

“What? No, no, I’m not going anywhere, I’ve got police protection-“

“They’re gone.” Jim cut him off, gesturing to the cars.

“What?”

“Sir,” Cas cut in, now feeling insanely impatient, “listen. Whoever killed those other two councilmen is coming for you, too. We _need_ to get you some place safe.”

As she spoke, both she and Jim grabbed the mayor’s arm and started gently steering him inside. He made a comment about needing something from his safe, and Jim followed him. Cas pulled out her gun and stood by the door, occasionally checking the window.

Several minutes went by, and Cas paced by the door. What the hell was taking so long? Her heartbeat was thudding in her ears, and she started to walk forward when something stopped her.

What was that click?

Jim and the mayor suddenly came busting down the stairs, the latter holding a brown suitcase. “We’re taking him to his sister’s, let’s go.” The detective instructed her hurriedly, but as he opened the door, Cassie’s eyes widened at the figure outside.

“J, watch out!”

Her brother jumped back just in time to avoid being stabbed. A man she could only assume was the killer busted through the door, lunging at them again. She went to fire a round, but he grabbed her wrist in one hand and slammed it harshly against the wall, knocking the derringer out of her hand as she grunted in pain. He slashed at her, and she narrowly dodged, slamming her knee into his gut.

“Cassie!” Jim shouted, but she waved him towards the stairs as the killer righted himself, already heading a different direction.

“Go, go!” She screamed, diving into the living room. Several shots went over her head as she ducked behind the couch, but luckily, none made contact. She stayed crouched upon hearing the killer begin running but realized in dismay that he was running towards Jim and the mayor, and he now had both guns.

Perfect.

She waited until the footsteps faded up the stairs, and slipped away, darting quietly down the hallway. Eventually, she happened upon the kitchen, and grabbed the first weapon she saw; a carving knife.

The stairs were clearly old, and as she started to go up them quietly, a gunshot made her jump, followed by a loud thump of a door hitting a wall. Her heart leapt to her throat, and she bolted up the stairs, knife clutched tightly in her hand.

The door to what appeared to be the mayor’s office had been shot open, a large hole where the lock had originally been. She flew inside to see a much larger room with a wide selection of wooden chairs, eyes widening in horror as she saw Jim fighting a losing battle against the killer as the latter picked him up and pile-drived him into the ground. With a cry, she lunged forward and buried the knife into the man’s back.

He howled in agony and turned, but she was already sending her fist towards his face. He was a contract killer for a reason, though, and caught it, twisting it to the side until she yelped and sending a knee into her own gut. She hit the floor, out of breath, as the man pulled the knife from his back with a grunt. Air was slowly filling up her lungs as he stabbed it downwards, and she rolled to the side, narrowly missing the blade, which slammed into the wood right where her neck had been. She came onto her back again and slammed her foot up into his crotch with a grunt, causing him to lose his grip on the knife, still in the floor.

At this point, Jim was back on his feet, and upon seeing the man over Cas, grabbed him with a growl and flung him into a wall behind the two. With the assailant distracted, the blonde snatched up the knife and stood, running towards them again. She aimed for his arm, intent to disarm him from the long cylinder in his hands that was shooting out something sharp, but he caught her arm and turned around, slamming his fist right between her eyes.

This time, she really went down. Her back met the floor, but black spots were already dancing before her eyes, and a wave of nausea rolled through her. For a second, the world darkened, and she shifted, fighting the dizziness as she heard Jim groan in pain.

_Damn it, Cassie, get up!_ She shook her head, fighting to clear the blur, when a loud click interrupted her.

“Drop it!”

Harvey Bullock’s voice had never filled her with so much relief, and Cas swallowed, taking a deep breath as the world began to shift back into focus.

“Drop or I’ll shoot.”

It was a struggle, but she pulled herself onto her elbows, watching hesitantly as the man backed away from Jim. She could still hear Harvey somewhere behind her, probably at the door, and Jim grabbed his own gun from the floor, looking towards his sister with an imploring look. She nodded, signaling she was injured, but alive.

The killer was now standing in between the Gordon’s and about five feet away from the mayor, who was watching the whole thing with is brief case clutched in front of his chest. For several tense, angst-filled seconds, the assassin was silent, eyes flickering between the people in the room.

“You know why they hire a professional?” He suddenly asked in a deep voice. His eyes narrowed, then zeroed in on the mayor.

“Because he finishes the job.”

Then he was lunging forward, weapon brandished, ready to drive the sharp spike right into the mayor. But both cops had the upper hand, now, and multiple bullets were suddenly pounding into the man’s torso, forcing him back. He staggered, gasping, as blood bubbled from his chest, before he fell heavily onto his back and stilled.

With a soft groan, Cassie shifted towards him, fighting the dizziness that was threatening to push her onto her back again, and reached out a hand. She felt along every spot on his neck she knew where to look, but there was nothing. She looked back up at her brother.

“He’s gone.”

About an hour later, she sat perched on Jim’s desk. A heat pack was pressed against her head as she waited for the pain killers the medic had given her to kick in. She had just watched Barbara storm out, the older woman merely nodding to her before leaving. She didn’t need to be able to see her brother’s face, standing above her on the top floor, to know what had happened.

She’d been asking about Cobblepot, again.

“Miss Gordon.”

A stern voice interrupted her mulling, and she turned to see Captain Essen in front of her, hands on her hips.

“I know for a fact that I have instructed you not to show up at anymore crime scenes. You’re a civilian, you can’t be putting yourself in danger like this.”

“I couldn’t not go, ma’am.” It was honestly a stupid answer, but it was stupidly honest, too. Essen cocked an eyebrow at her.

“And why’s that?”

“Because when I stabbed that killer, when he was standing over my brother, I realized something. Jim is constantly running in head-first, it only makes sense there’s someone at his back.”

Essen paused, staring at the younger girl. She wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the similarities between the siblings was almost disturbing. Same narrowed eyes, set jaw, creased forehead. They both slouched when concentrating, and even shared the same eye shade.

But there were noticeable differences. Jim just _looked_ hardheaded and stubborn; you could see the lines in his forehead from stress, the tension in his neck and his shoulders, and he was obviously a guy who trained regularly to take down an assailant. The eldest Gordon was an obvious threat to anyone who tried to come at him.

Cassandra however was much different. She was about five-foot-seven and willowy; her arms and legs were covered in sinewy muscle, but whenever she was dressed in her traditional jackets and jeans, it was easy to simply mistake her for too skinny. Her face was pretty and delicate, with a very disarming smile and large, round eyes. But it was in those eyes, if you looked closer, you could see that fire. That ambition, that thirst, the fighter. The younger Gordon was like a rose; beautiful to the naked eye, but when you got too close, you saw, (or felt) the thorns.

And of course, God gave the world’s most stubborn set of siblings to her.

“You’re too damn smart for your own good, Cassandra.” The older woman sighed, then shook her head. “Look, how about you start coming to me when you want to show up on cases, how does that sound?”

The answer made Cassie’s chest inflate, and she straightened, nodding.

“That sounds wonderful, Captain.”

Essen nodded, then walked away, shaking her head. “Damn Gordon’s…”

The dark-haired woman walked away, heels clicking, and Cassie winced as she pressed the heat pack harder against her head, annoyed at the pain that was echoing through. She’d be out of commission for the next week or so because of the concussion, which meant low-impact activities with Bruce, and there was no way in hell she’d be able to help Jim and Harvey.

“Cassandra?”

The shy, familiar voice nearly startled her, and she turned quickly, wincing as the pain throbbed across her skull. Edward was standing off to her side, clutching a clipboard to his chest, brown eyes wide. As she smiled gently and greeted him, he stuttered.

“I, uh, I heard of your injury. I wanted to stop in and make sure that you were alright.” He seemed incredibly nervous, but then again, Cas noticed that Eddie always seemed nervous. She smiled wider at him and nodded slowly, motioning to her heat pack.

“Yeah, he had a pretty mean right hook, but don’t worry, Ed. I’ll be back on my feet in no time.” She reassured him lightly, and his own smile grew as he nodded.

“Well, I am very glad to hear that, Cassandra. I will leave you to your healing.” He quickly began to walk off, but Cas stopped him.

“Hey, Ed?” Upon seeing him turn, she nodded. “You can’t keep calling me Cassandra; all my friends call me Cassie or Cas.”

“Cassie,” he repeated, looking surprised, then delighted. “Friend. Right, uh, Cassie.”

Exchanging one more friendly smile, the man walked off, and Cas licked her lips. He was a strange one, that was for sure.

One week.

She’d been laid up at home for _one week_ and everything went straight to shit.

Was that a new record? It felt like a new record. During her recovery time several events had occurred that spiked her blood pressure and caused her to text her brother nearly every hour, inquiring into his and his partners wellbeing. They both repeated that they were fine, but she couldn’t stop herself from having nightmares that ended in finding her brother’s mangled, bloody body.

That new drug, Viper, had hit the streets hard enough to leave a serious dent. She’d been checking in with some old friends, and their trucks had been overrun with new patients, all dying horrible and inevitable deaths brought on by the new drug. There was no real cure; not much could bring back that much calcium, at least not in the amount of time the person still had left. She’d seen some ugly things since working as a first responder, but this easily made her top five list.

Cobblepot was causing Jim more than trouble, now. It was outright dangerous at this point, and no amount of begging from Cas was convincing him to leave. She’d even tried using Barbara and her safety to convince him, but it would appear that his fiancée’s departure did little but motivate him more.

So, Cassie stayed. She was losing sleep and had constant headaches, but she stayed.

Work at Wayne Manor was fine, if not a little challenging at times. Bruce seemed to be burying himself deeper and deeper into his quest for vengeance. If Cassie was being totally honest, it concerned her deeply to see such a young man grow so reserved. Alfred agreed with her, and once her shift was over, the two adults would meet and attempt to decide what to do with him. However, they always seemed to come to the same conclusion: don’t push him. He’s stubborn, he’s determined, let him learn his own lessons and gain his own confidence.

The talks with the butler were becoming less and less about business, and more and more about casual things. She’d even go so far as to call the man a friend. He was stern, but he was also hilarious, with an incredibly dry sense of humor. Once you got him out of his professional shell, he was actually incredibly friendly.

Things would have been _better_ , per say, for the siblings if Falcone and Mooney didn’t know that Penguin was, in fact, still alive. And since he’d decided to drag Maroni into the thick of it, the siblings now found themselves in the middle of a little tug-of-war. Jim had told her he’d done everything in his power to ensure none of the bosses knew of her involvement, but both Gordon’s knew that wouldn’t last too long.

And it didn’t.

Her day started off normal; it was Thursday, meaning she was off work. She’d gotten up early, trained on her own a little bit, and she had just finished getting ready when her phone went off.

Cassie couldn’t be too sure why, but before she even looked at the phone, she knew it was her brother.

And she was right.

_“Cassie! Cassie, listen to me-“_ his panicked voice cut off with a loud groan of pain, and she felt her heart drop.

“Jim, what the hell-“

_“Cas, listen to me very carefully. Falcone and Mooney sent a hitman after me, he’s well known. His name is Victor Zsasz. He threatened you several times, they know where you live.”_

Her stomach dropped, her blood ran cold. The hair on the back of her neck immediately stood up, and her head whipped around, searching for a threat before she was running towards the front door to lock it as Jim continued.

_“You need to get out; Montoya and Allen rescued me. We’re on our way to get you right now, so get out of the apartment, but stay close, ok?”_

“Ok, got it. Corner of Wesler and Washington, I’ll be behind the blue dumpster.”

_“I’ll be there soon. And, Cassie?”_

She paused her movements of shoving her things into her messenger bag, breathing picking up.

“Yeah?”

_“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from all of this.”_ He paused, _“This isn’t the life I wanted you to have.”_

“J, I’ve already told you,” Cas responded, voice growing firm, “I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing, and when I say I’m staying, I’m staying. Now, don’t get all weepy on me, you moron, cause I’m going to see you in-“

She wasn’t sure what happened first; the dial tone of the call failing, or blackness engulfing her apartment.

It was frighteningly still. The silence and the darkness combined sent a chill down her spine, and the hair on her arms and on the back of her neck stood on end. Azure blue eyes flitted around, then she brought the phone back up to her ear

“Jim?”

Nothing.

_Of course they have a fucking cell phone jammer._

Slowly, she flipped the phone shut, but slid it into the back pocket of her jeans; who knew when she’d be able to use it again. Her heart was beginning to pound, but she fought to keep her breathing silent, stepping one foot slowly in front of the other as she walked down the hall towards the kitchen.

The only light was coming from the window just over the sink, but since her apartment was a basement and they were located under the freeway, it wasn’t much. There were no other sounds around her, save for her quiet, fast breathing and the floorboards creaking underneath her bare feet. Since the heat had also been cut off, she was left in her black tank top and ripped jeans. Goosebumps rose on her skin, from the cold or from fear, she couldn’t be sure. Sliding towards the table, she reached under it, fingers feeling for the hatch she’d used to store her 9mm underneath, but froze when she felt an undone latch, hanging freely.

He’d taken her gun.

The only other one she had was stored in her car, outside, and there was almost twenty feet of space between her and the door, followed by another fifteen to reach her car. Would she actually make it in time?

She didn’t have many other options. With a deep breath, her muscles wound tightly, and her heels raised off the floor, ready to sprint to safety-

-and then the door to the pantry was flying open.

She dove out of the way just in time; a figure came at her, knife glinting in the pale light, and a hand narrowly missed her arm as she ducked and rolled across the kitchen, coming to stand in the doorway to the halls.

It was at this time that the lights came back on, nearly blinding her, and she was greeted with a very un-welcoming sight.

A man; late twenties, maybe a little older. He was pale, and completely bald, as well as missing any possible hair on his face. He was clad completely in black, a color that seemed to contrast sharply with his skin, and his wide, gray eyes were gleaming with a dark excitement, lips turned up into a smirk.

“So, this is the little Gordon.” He taunted lowly, but Cassie didn’t respond, merely watching his movements. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Sorry about the lights,” he motioned over them, “I had one of my friends turn them out; you were supposed to turn your back to the pantry and give me a chance to drug you, but,” he pulled a syringe out of his pocket, filled with about five milliliters of clear liquid, “I won’t lie; this looks like much more fun.”

“Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Aw, now, don’t be that way, _Cassie_. May I call you Cassie?”

“No.”

“Anyway, Cas, here’s how this game is going to go: I will allow you to choose one weapon around you. It can be a knife, a plate, a baseball bat, I don’t care. But you have five seconds to grab it, and then we begin.”

Her eyes flew around the room, a sense of urgency rising in her as her heart pounded, blood rushing in her ears. Just as the blue orbs fell on the iron skillet she’d been using a few days ago, his voice reached her ears.

“Three, two, one.”

She lunged, hand outstretched for the skillet, as he came at her. He moved at nearly an impossible speed, hands outstretched to grab her and lock her in, but her fingers enclosed around the skillet’s handle and she swung, aiming right for his head. He was just as quick, though, and jumped back, the edge whizzing by his face with an inch left to spare. He was moving forward again, grabbing her wrist in a tight grip and twisting it downward. The movement made her yelp and drop her weapon, but she threw her head back and then forward, feeling her crown meet his cheekbone. He was knocked back, grunting, and his grip loosened just long enough for her to yank her hand away and backpedal, bracing her hands onto the counter and jumping, slamming both feet into his torso. His back met the table and she turned on her heel, bolting back towards her room. She didn’t make it halfway down the hall when a hand tangled in her hair, and she shouted, reaching back to claw at his wrist and hand. Her back met his chest, and she flinched away from his voice, close enough to feel his breath, panting hard against her skin.

“You’re fast.”

“Get fucked.” She ground out, then slammed her elbow back. It hit him in his solar plexus, right between the ribs, and she felt all the breath in his lungs move across her neck and shoulders as she turned, twisting his own hand and slamming her foot into his gut. It hit a second time, but he recovered faster than she expected, and he pulled back, yanking his hand from her grip and shooting a jab at her jaw. She ducked, uppercutting, but he blocked it, and then she turned, roundhouse kicking at his chest. He blocked that, too, but this time kept a grip on her leg and swung her, her shoulder blades meeting the wall of the hallway with painful _thud!_ his hand wrapped around her throat, and she gasped, grabbing at his wrist and the hand on her leg. He was squeezing, harder and harder, eyes darkening with sick pleasure as he watched her struggle. She finally let go of the hand on her leg and shot it out, feeling around the wall. Her fingers brushed against a familiar, ornate finish, and she grasped the picture, yanking it from the wall and slamming it into Victor’s head with everything she had.

He cried out and stumbled away, releasing her as the glass from the frame shattered over his skull and broad shoulders. Oxygen flood her lungs, but she pushed past the desperation to sit back and breathe and bolted forward, back the way she came, towards the front door. But his hand wrapped around her ankle, and she pitched forward, grunting in pain as she smacked onto the floor beneath her. Flipping onto her back, she shot out foot towards his head, but he dodged, wrapping an arm around her leg. Twisting, she grabbed his arm and wriggled into a chokehold, attempting to force him onto the ground with both legs on either side of his head and his arm between her thighs. He was strong, though, much stronger than her. He began to lift her, and desperate not to lose her edge, she kept a hold on him until she was almost a foot off the ground.

And then he slammed her harshly into the floor.

A pained gasp/cry left her lips, and she tried desperately to suck in a breath as he rolled on top of her, his hand enclosing around her throat, a knife appearing in his hand. At the sight of the weapon, her eyes widened and her hands wrapped around his wrist, squeezing and pulling desperately. He only seemed to find her struggling funny, though, and actually began to laugh.

“Hot damn,” he chuckled, still breathing hard from their fight, “I didn’t expect this much of a fight. I expected some screaming, a kitchen knife, maybe throwing some books and trying to crawl through a window, but,” he shook his head, eyes staring down at her with an expression she didn’t really want to read into, “you are really something, aren’t you, Cassie Gordon?”

“Don’t call me that.” She snarled, clawing at the skin underneath his sleeve, but it didn’t even faze him. He shrugged, then slipped the knife back into his coat, withdrawing the syringe. She struggled harder, but he was twice her size. It wasn’t much of a fight on the floor, not in this position.

Victor watched her, syringe poised in his hand, as she squirmed underneath him. Her hair was spread around her, wild curls and waves. Her lips were drawn back into a snarl, nails digging into his wrist, and two ocean blue eyes were attempting to burn two holes into his face. He let out a final, breathy chuckle, then shrugged.

“Well, I’m sure your brother will be very happy to see you.”

It was the last thing she heard before a sharp prick flared through the left side of her neck, and her limbs suddenly weighed a million pounds. Her movements became sluggish, and she tried to shout, but she just couldn’t make her lips move correctly. Her eyelids drooped, and she fought to keep them open, but Victor Zsasz’s smirking face was the last thing she saw before she was fully gone.

Falcone’s house could have rivaled Wayne Manor; it was massive, with a large backyard and a long, gravel driveway. Of course, she couldn’t see anything past the gates and she couldn’t remember driving onto the property.

Cassie sat in a chair, hands bound in front of her. Rain continued to pour outside, and the chill seemed to permeate the house, going straight into her bones. Still only clad in a tank top and jeans, she glowered up at the man in front of her, who stood, watching her carefully.

“You look like your mother, Cassandra,” Carmine Falcone told her warmly, “she was a good woman, with a kind heart. When I first met you, I thought you to be soft spoken, like her. But,” he shook his head, “it would appear you are mostly like your father, and your brother, for that matter.” He looked over towards Victor, who stood much too close to Cas for her liking. The bald man had a rather large bruise on his head from where she’d smacked him with the picture frame, yet he hadn’t stopped staring at the blonde, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Victor tells me you put up quite a fight.”

“You thought I’d just cry and beg because your dog here was carrying a knife?” The words were sharp as a blade and soaked with venom, but neither man flinched. In fact, they both smiled, and Falcone chuckled.

“No, I did not expect that from you. In fact, I sent Victor for that very reason; I expected some resistance on your part. But, Cassandra,” he leaned forward, “you need to understand. Jim failed to complete a very important task. The fact that he not only failed, but outright rebelled, shows me that he cannot be trusted. You understand, don’t you?”

Cassie stayed quiet, keeping her glare on her face. She didn’t understand, not in the slightest, and she didn’t want to. All she cared about was making sure both she and her brother would be alive tomorrow, that was it.

“Your brother’s fiancée,” Falcone’s next words caused her muscles to tense, and she raised her eyes back to his in shock, unable to keep her face from dropping as he continued. “Barbara Kean, right? She’s in the sitting room as of right now, begging for his life, and yours.”

“No, don’t-“ she started to protest, sitting forward, but Victor’s hand came down on her shoulder, squeezing tightly. She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Look, she doesn’t know, ok? Jim made me swear not to tell her anything, so she’s useless to you. Just let her go.”

“And how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t, but then again, even if I did have proof, would you believe me?”

Her answer seemed to amuse him, and he paused, but then shook his head. “I’m sorry, Cassandra. But we’ve got our enemy’s sister and fiancée within our grasp, I can’t just let one go.” He nodded at Victor, “Take her back to her room.”

Cassie’s lips parted in horror, and she started to struggle as Zsasz yanked her none-too-gently to her feet, beginning to pull her out of the room. “No! No, let go of me! Barbara!” She screamed louder, trying to get the older woman to hear her, “Barbara, run! Run, don’t look back, he’s lying, he won’t help you!”

But Victor had had enough, and he stooped down, yanking her over his shoulder and carrying her through the door, her shouts fading as she was carried back to her prison.

Cassie couldn’t be too sure how long she sat in that room. She’d been told that they’d let her back out whenever Jim showed up, hopefully it was soon. She wasn’t beaten or roughed up, but unfortunately, she knew she couldn’t say the same for Barbara. The woman’s shouts of pain carried through the walls, making her pound on the wall, shouting for them to come for her. But she had unfortunately shown them everything she knew, and they no longer had any interest in her.

There wasn’t even a clock in her small prison, so she simply sat on the floor, attempting to stay calm, attempting to come up with a plan. Windows? Sealed shut, and she was on the third floor, so all she’d get was a broken ankle at the very least. Door? Deadbolted from the outside and well-guarded. Phone? Missing. Weapons? None, the room was completely bare. She _could_ attempt to fight hand-to-hand, but seeing as everyone else in the mansion was armed to the teeth, maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

It was raining outside, as per usual, and it was making it difficult to judge the time of day. She was guessing sometime around ten in the morning, maybe eleven. Her window faced the back of the house, so she couldn’t even see someone coming up the driveway.

It didn’t last much longer, though, when the locks on the door began to click. Cas shot to her feet, muscles tense, as the last deadbolt unlatched and the door swung open, revealing her least favorite person on Earth.

“Alright, Cassie,” Victor announced smugly, “your big bro’s here to pick you up.” His hand clamped down on her arm, and began to drag her out of the room. She squirmed uncomfortably at their proximity, but she could practically feel the satisfaction coming off of Zsasz from the action, so she did her best to keep her movements to a minimum. They went through a twisting maze of halls that she couldn’t even bother to remember when they finally passed through a door, and she saw in shock who was waiting for her.

Falcone stood in front of the small, ragtag group. Jim was standing close to Barbara, whose hands were bound in front of her. At the sight of his sister, his face lost its color, and Cas tried to move towards him, but Victor pulled her closer again, this time keeping her back flush against his chest. Her appearance brought Harvey to his feet, who looked equally startled. Shockingly enough, Mayor James stood off to the side, sweating and looking very freaked out. Cas resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

_Coward._

“Ok, so, they definitely weren’t bluffing.” Harvey concluded out loud, and Jim turned back to Falcone as the older man began speaking.

“I told you, she is unharmed. She put up quite the fight with Victor, though, James. It should make you proud, he normally isn’t so challenged with his assignments. Now,” the old man took a deep breath, “What am I going to do with you?” He pondered softly, a hand raised to his chin, looking thoughtful. “By right’s, you have to die.”

Cassie felt Victor’s breathing speed up in excitement, and his hands tightened on her arms, as if the thought of killing her was going vividly through his mind right then. Jim glared at the man holding his sister, Harvey attempting to edge closer, as he turned back to Falcone. At the crime bosses thought, the mayor jumped, stuttering.

“Woah, hello, um, late for work!” He stumbled out, then practically ran from the room. “I’ll be on my way.”

“It’s such a waste, though,” Falcone mused, “Gotham needs men like you, both of you. Strong men, with principals. I wish I could make you see I’m not the enemy, the system is not the enemy. The enemy is _anarchy._ ”

Cassie attempted to keep her breathing steady, watching the scene carefully, but with uncertainty as the suited man continued.

“But I told you that before, didn’t I, Jim?”

“Yes, you did.” Jim remarked lowly, watching with wary eyes.

“And you didn’t listen.” Falcone paused for a beat. “But _today;_ today, you believed me. And I think that’s a step in the right direction.”

The air was so thick with a tension, you could have cut it with a bread knife. Cassie’s breathing sped up, almost syncing with Victor’s as he pressed her harder against his chest, his fingers wrapped tightly around her arms like binds. She could feel his chin on top of her shoulder, and her eyes flickered towards Jim, who kept glancing towards her as Harvey got closer and closer.

“Yes.” Falcone’s voice nearly made her jump, but she turned back to him in shock. “Yes; go, before I change my mind.”

Victor’s hands tightened to the point of pain on her arms, and she felt a growl rumble in his chest. “Wait a minute-“

“Quiet.” Falcone ordered firmly, and Cas was actually quite shocked when the hitman obeyed. But his grip on her did not let up as the crime boss stepped closer to Barbara.

“It’s been a pleasure, Barbara. I do admire a brave woman.” His eyes flicked to Cassie and Victor. “Let her go, Victor.”

“But I told you I wanted to _keep_ this one-“

“And now I’m telling you to let her go.” Falcone’s voice dropped a few degrees, and bruises began to form on Cas’s arms as Harvey and Jim stepped closer, ready to snatch her from Zsasz’s grasp. He puffed out a breath of annoyance, then leaned in closer, causing her to flinch as his lips nearly touched her ear.

“I’ll be seeing you again _real_ soon.” He whispered giddily, then threw her towards her brother. Jim caught her, wrapping her into a tight hug and quickly looking over her person for injuries before turning to Falcone.

“What’s the catch?”

“Jim, he said we could go. Let’s not haggle here.” Harvey reminded his partner, standing half in front of Cas. But the oldest Gordon would not be deterred. He stepped closer, face dark.

“What’s the catch, Mr. Falcone?”

“I want you to think about what I said; I want you to understand the truth. That’s all I ask.” Falcone instructed simply, and even Cassandra felt doubt flare through her. That was _way_ too simple, and after they’d threatened him with not only arrest, but with death most likely?

Something was definitely wrong.

“The catch is,” Falcone continued, “someday soon, you’ll see I’m right.”

A few days later, she was back in Wayne Manor, waiting for Alfred and Bruce to arrive home. Jim and Harvey were investigating some big investor that apparently was forcing his newest employees to fight out in a bullpen who would get the job. It was brutal, but that wasn’t what had her concerned. It was Jim.

Jim had always been a fighter, from the time they were children, all the way up until now. His time in the middle east haunted him, she could tell, and it was cases lie this that had her worried. It didn’t take much to trigger PTSD, and his nightmares had always been particularly brutal.

So, after Alfred had called ahead and asked her to order a pizza, she called Harvey, tapping the desk impatiently with her finger as the phone rang. 

_“Hello?”_

“Harvey,” she breathed out, running a hand through her hair, “look, Jim hasn’t checked in with me in a while, are you with him? Is he safe?”

The older mans pause did little to easer her anxiety, and the next ones made it worse. _“He went off to investigate some more about Richard Sionis, the investment banker we’re looking into. He hasn’t been back, we’re all tracking down leads right now.”_

Her fucking blood pressure was going to kill her before anything in this town. Cursing, she bit her lip, scratching hard at her neck. “Shit, Harvey…”

_“I know, but I promise you, Cas, I’m going to bring him home, ok? I’m looking out for him, I promise.”_

The blonde nodded, her eyes burning. “Thank you, Harvey. Um, look, I’m at work right now, but call me back the second you get some news, ok?”

_“You got it, baby Gordon.”_

Alfred and Bruce arrived home not long after that, the two of them looking happy and excited. She did her best to force back her anxiety, chiding the two of them upon seeing the young boy’s bruised knuckles. But she couldn’t deny some pride swelling her chest at the thought of Bruce taking out a bully, older and bigger than he was. After wrapping his hand, she went back into the kitchen to get some pizza.

“Your brother is lucky, you know.” Alfred’s voice made her jump unintentionally, and her head whipped towards his voice to see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her carefully. “Don’t misinterpret my meaning, he’s a great man, but a very impulsive young lad, isn’t he?”

Cas snorted, pouring herself some more Coke. “Trust me, you have no idea.”

As she set the bottle down, her short sleeve rode up, and Alfred stepped forward to grab her wrist gently. Turning, she saw him looking at her arm with narrowed eyes.

Zsasz’s grip had left her with two handprint-shaped bruises, one on each arm. They were painful, and not fun when getting dressed or accidentally bumping into someone, but they worked. Alfred shook his head, looking…angry?

“Are you sure it’s a good idea, miss, to be getting mixed up in all this?”

“Jim’s my _brother_ ,” she reminded him sternly, gently pulling her wrist free, “and he’s been looking out for me since I was born. I figured, if anything, I could return the favor.”

The butler shook his head, then sighed. “Alright, well, next time you find yourself between a knife and a contract killer, you call someone, yeah?”

Cas cocked her head to the side, smiling teasingly. “Awww, you mean like you, Alfred?”

The gray-haired man straightened, trying to appear nonchalant. “If it comes to that, yes.”

Cas’s smile widened a little, and she put a hand on his arm. “Tell you what; next time the mob is after me, I’ll give you a call, ok?”


	4. CHAPTER FOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this is just a filler, but we're getting to the interesting stuff! Season one really drags at some points, so I'm considering just skipping straight to a more action-packed episode cause there's not a lot for Cassie to do in some of these episodes. So, I hope you guys like this one and let me know what you think!

“She says this is the man who shot your parents.”

It was a sunny day in Gotham, the cool smog lifting only slightly to allow the rays into the manor. Cas, Alfred, Bruce, and Jim were all in the study; the first two standing, while Jim and Bruce sat on the couch, going over an eye-witness sketch.

Jim had stopped by to drop off the witness, a young girl around Bruce’s age, and told them the issue. She was a murder witness, which put her in immediate danger. She was also a homeless child, one who, Cas could easily see, Jim had let get under his skin. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her, she was just a kid. So, for the remainder of the investigation, she’d be staying at the manor.

Personally, the blonde thought it was a great idea. Bruce hardly ever got interaction with other children outside of the school incident, and maybe getting to see how other, non-rich children lived would be very good for the boy.

Alfred, however, didn’t seem to agree.

“I don’t recognize him.” The young Wayne was saying, shaking his head, “I didn’t see him without the mask, and I’ve never met him.” He looked over at Jim, face pinched with sadness and anxiety. “Do you believe her? When she says she saw who killed my parents?”

Jim nodded, his face determined. “Yeah, I do.”

“So, she saw…everything?”

Jim couldn’t really answer that, and he only nodded sadly. Alfred interjected, looking irritated.

“And you want her to live here with us, do you? A common street criminal?”

“Alfred.” Cas’s tone was sharp and disbelieving, but the butler ignored her, continuing to look at her brother expectantly. Jim shrugged.

“She’s hardly older than Bruce; she’s just a kid who’s seen too much. This is for her safety, the G.C.P.D is full of moles-“

“Right, and how long would you have us put her up, then?”

Her older brother started to open his mouth, then shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, the answer is no, then.” The older man stated firmly, “Her being here will put Master Bruce in great danger-“

“Alfred!”

Bruce’s voice broke through their arguing, his brown eyes set with that familiar look Cassie knew all too well. He’d made up his mind, the girl would be staying.

“She’s the witness to a _murder,_ Master Bruce, you do understand that, don’t you?”

“She’s also the best chance we have at finding whoever killed my parents, isn’t she?” Bruce shot back, turning to Jim near the end of his sentence. Jim nodded.

“Yes, she is.”

Bruce nodded, still gingerly holding the sketch. “Then she can stay.”

He set the paper down, rising to his feet, and turned so he was standing in front of his guardian, eyes pinched together, jaw set.

“I’ve made my decision.”

And then he walked away; Cas could only guess to go find Selina Kyle and speak to her. She sighed and rubbed her neck as Jim stood, shooting Alfred an apologetic glance.

“Look, I’m sorry, ok? If this follows through, she’ll have to testify, go before a judge.” He shook his head, “Witnesses back out all the time, the ones that stick around do so because they care about the victims.”

“And when will that be?”

“I’m doing everything I can; Montoya, Allen, and myself are going to meet with an ADA this afternoon, one that they _trust._ ” He motioned to his sister, who nodded, but Alfred looked doubtful.

“A trustworthy lawyer? In Gotham?”

It was later the next day, and Cas was swearing as she pulled up to Wayne Manor. She was almost thirty minutes late, her damn alarm hadn’t gone off for whatever reason. Probably needed a new one, since it was such a hunk of junk. Plus, since Jim was now back to staying in the apartment they shared, he had a tendency to take up all the hot water. It had been annoying when she was younger, and it was still very much annoying now.

So, with her shirt still hanging halfway off her shoulder, she bounded up the steps, converse slapping against the concrete as she entered the home. The side entrance she always used squeaked loudly, but that’s why she used it; it could be heard throughout almost the entire first floor, usually signaling her arrival. However, no calls from Alfred or Bruce alerted her that they’d heard the door.

“Hello?” She called out, running a hand through her hair and walking further down the hallway. “Bruce? Alfred?”

“Who are you?”

The young voice had her turning, muscles tensed, but relaxed upon seeing who it was. A young girl, no older than Bruce. Two bright, green eyes were sizing her up, her short hair wild with curls. She looked tired, and that was when Cas guessed who she was speaking to.

“Selina, right?” The blonde inquired, setting her bag on the table and shrugging out of her jacket. “My brother told me you’d be staying here. I’m Cassie, Bruce’s nanny.”

“Wait,” Selina’s eyes widened, “you’re Gordon’s kid sister, aren’t you? Cassandra?”

Cas grimaced. “Yeah, that’s my full name. Do me a favor, though, don’t use it. It’s just Cas.”

The girl nodded, then gestured to herself. “Well, everyone calls me Cat.”

Cas stuck her hand out, and though she could tell the girl was surprised, she returned the handshake. “Nice to meet you, Cat. How are Alfred and Bruce treating you?”

“Well…” the tween trailed off, smirking a little. “I don’t think the butler likes me too much.”

A snicker bubbled past Cassie’s lips, and she nodded, pulling a book out of her bag. “Yeah, don’t worry. He’ll come around, he’s just _very_ paranoid.”

“Who’s paranoid?”

Both girl’s eyes widened at the sight of Alfred, standing in the doorway off to their right. Cassie shrugged, smiling innocently.

“No one. Anyway, I think I’ll go check in on Bruce, now.” She slapped Alfred’s bicep lightly, in a friendly greeting, before heading down the hallway.

The day went on as usual; Cassie helped Bruce with the curriculum he was developing and compiled a reading list for him to go through in his spare time. It was mostly classics; _To Kill a Mockingbird, The Count of Monte Cristo: Abridged, the Invisible Man,_ and her personal favorite, _Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone._

Selina wandered, mostly. It was obvious the young girl had never seen such a large house; not that Cas could blame her, she reacted the same way when she first started working there. But she could easily sense two things from the men in the house: Bruce had a massive crush, and Alfred downright hated her.

No amount of lecturing or hissing at him to shut up was doing anything, so all she could do was mediate and pray that the butler saw the good the girl was doing for Bruce. It was tough, but she simply tried to ensure everything played out peacefully. As she was walking through the halls, her phone rang, and she raised it to her ear in surprise.

“Harvey?”

_“Hey, Cas, I’m just checking in. You doin’ alright?”_

“Yeah, I’m fortressed inside the manor, so…” she trailed off, then shook her head slightly, “Um, anyway, is there anything you need?”

_“Well, it’s more like what I thought you would need.”_ There was a pause. _“Did Jim tell you Barbara had left?”_

Cas sighed, closing her eyes. “Yeah, he did. He moved back into our shared apartment, so that was the biggest red flag to me. I thought she’d be back by now, but nothing.”

_“I tried to get him not to worry about it, but I don’t think it did any good. He seems…on edge. Any chance you could come down here at the end of your shift? I think I could use your input.”_

Cas snorted. “Did you just willingly ask me to come down to the station?”

_“Yep.”_

“And you realize you’re purposefully asking for two Gordon’s under the same roof?”

_“Trust me, kid, I know what I’m getting myself into. But I need to make sure that brother of yours is right in the head, or he’s going to get me killed.”_

“Mm-hm.” She agreed tauntingly, then chuckled. “Ok, Harvey, I’ll be over there as soon as I’m done here, ok?”

_“See you then, blondie.”_

She started down the hall, wanting to check on the kids, when their voices stopped her. It wasn’t that they were talking, it was that they were speaking in such…soft tones. There was no shouting or threatening, simply talking. Slowing down, the younger Gordon stopped just outside the door, listening to them.

“My mom does magic tricks.” Selina was saying, and Cas was reminded of when Bruce had told her regretfully of how the girl had reacted when asked about her family. It was an honest mistake, but she could tell by the girl’s response that she was not, in fact, an orphan.

She’d been abandoned.

“Really?” Bruce.

“Yeah; she sings and dances and does magic tricks,” the street kid began to list off, “gets paid, like, _millions._ But that’s just a cover. Really, she’s just a secret agent for the government. And, when she’s done with her mission, she’s coming back for me.”

Cas felt her lips pull down into a frown, and she sighed quietly before turning on her heel and slipping away.

The kids would flip if they caught her eavesdropping.

The police station was busy the next time she got in there; but she spotted Jim, Harvey, and Ed right away. Bounding up the steps, all three men turned to look at her just in time for her to see Ed holding a large, heavy chunk of metal with a hole piercing clean through it. She cocked an eyebrow, then looked at all of them.

“So, what did I miss?”

“Cas, what are you doing here?” Her older brother asked tiredly, and she shrugged, walking to stand next to Ed.

“What, a girl can’t miss her friends and her big brother?” She asked, nudging Ed’s arm with her shoulder. The spectacled man laughed nervously with her, but Cas missed the glare Jim shot his way before turning back to her.

“This is dangerous stuff-“

“And Zsasz wasn’t dangerous?” She asked, unable to hold the bite in her tone. He flinched, and she bit her lip, wanting to take it back. “Look, I’m just here to make sure you’re alright. I mean, I am letting you know before I show up on scene, like I originally promised.”

Jim rolled his eyes, then turned back to Nygma. “You were saying, Ed?”

“Ah, yes,” the analyst shook his head, then continued, “this is a very specific type of explosive. It’s highly volatile, and _very_ difficult to manufacture. It’s for one use, and one use only: to penetrate iron.”

“Like a vault in a bank?” Jim guessed, but both Ed and Cassie shook their heads.

“Nah, those are all steel now.” She dismissed, and Ed nodded, beginning to shift with the weight of the metal in his hands.

“She’s right; no one makes anything out of iron anymore, not for a hundred years.”

Suddenly, Harvey’s eyes widened, and he turned to Jim. “The Gotham Armory.”

Jim’s face went slack, then his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, yeah that’s right, they have those iron vaults they used to keep the gunpowder in.”

“Didn’t a ‘private’ investment group buy it out like, a few years ago?” Cassie brought up, seeing the two detective’s minds headed the same place hers was. Harvey nodded.

“Yep.”

“And I’ll bet ten-to-one on Falcone.” Jim chimed in, before both men grabbed their coats. Cas started to leave with them, then turned back to Ed, smiling gratefully at him.

“Thank you for always helping him, Ed,” she told him sincerely, patting his shoulder, “you’re great at what you do.” She flashed one more smile before jogging after them, not noticing the forensic analyst staring after her as he struggled not to drop the iron on his foot.

As they pulled up on scene, Jim made sure his sister was carrying her gun before they walked out, weapons drawn. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but Cassie’s fingers were steady on her weapon, and she knew that was what mattered.

Weapons drawn, the three rounded the corner, pointed directly at the group of men loading large groups of cash, boxed up in plastic wrap, into an armored truck. It was millions of dollars, easily, but Cassie’s eyes fell on the young man, not too much older than her, that was dressed in a Blackgate jumpsuit and looking like he was about to have a heart attack, hands shaking.

“You’re surrounded!” Harvey yelled out, announcing their arrival. As if to prove their point, four police cars came roaring up to the scene, sirens blaring and effectively blocking off the convicts escape route. “There’s no way out!”

“Drop your weapons!” Jim warned, but no on listened. One pointed his shot gun directly at Cas, and while she didn’t flinch, she saw Jim shift out of the corner of her eye. “Hargrove!”

The young man turned around, his hands still up.

“Ian Hargrove, your brother and his family are safe. We have them in protective custody.” At her brother’s reassurance, the boy’s face dropped into one of relief, then tensed against as he looked around him. Slowly, he began to inch towards the trio. Jim walked forward to meet them, but the group of thieves weren’t giving up so easily.

“If he runs, shoot him!” One of them yelled in a thick Russian accent, and Cassie pulled the hammer of her gun back.

“Don’t shoot! Drop your weapons!” She yelled, but the men were getting antsy, and it was clear someone was just about to pop off a shot when they heard it.

Was that The Final Countdown?

In cellphone jingle form, the song began to pierce the air, and right as Cas realized what was happening, the world seemed to still. Everything moved like syrup, like someone was playing a video in slow motion, and Jim’s eyes widened.

“Get away from the truck!” He bellowed, and Harvey grabbed onto her just in time.

The explosion threw them backwards, and her back met the gravel beneath her with roughly, making her groan. Harvey was half on top of her, an arm around her shoulders, and Jim was laying over Hargrove. The group pulled themselves up, looking at the money that was floating back down. Or, what was left of it.

Most of the bills were aflame, and just for a second, it looked like it was raining fire.

_Well, at least I’m not injured this time,_ Cas thought wryly. She was sitting on Jim’s desk, texting an update to Alfred and checking in on the kids as Jim was talking to the desk sergeant. As she finished, she felt exhaustion tugging at her eyelids.

A coffee sounded wonderful.

The coffee pot was in the breakroom, which was blessedly empty. Just the smell of the hot, black drink was waking her up, and she grabbed a mug, reaching for the carafe.

But a large hand landed on top of hers, and she pulled back in surprise, eyes traveling up a tall, dark-haired figure.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man chuckled, stepping back, “here, you go ahead.”

“Thanks.” She told him lightly grabbing onto the pot. She cocked her head at him as she finished, “So, I don’t recognize you, do you work here?”

It would appear she caught him spacing out, because his face blanked, and then his eyes widened and he shook his head, stumbling over his words a little. “Oh, um, no, no. I’m an assistant DA, I just came to talk to Detective Gordon about some things involving the case we’re pursuing.”

Her mind clicked and she stopped, pointing at him and smiling a little. “That’s right! Jim told me about you; said you were the one lawyer that Montoya and Allen trust.”

“Oh, you know Detective Gordon?” He inquired, looking kind of surprised, and she nodded.

“Yeah, he’s my brother.” She let go of her mug with one hand, sticking it out. “I’m Cassandra.”

A smile that seemed a tad relieved passed onto his face, and he grabbed her hand, shaking it firmly. “Well, it’s wonderful to meet another member of the Gordon family. Are you in the force, too?”

“Me? Oh no,” she denied, shaking her head, “I’m actually an EMT, but right now I’m just taking a break and working as a nanny.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” he said smoothly, smiling, “I think the force could use more intelligent women.”

Her lips parted slightly, and her ears grew hot. Unsure of what to say, she chuckled breathily. “Wow, that was, um…”

“A little too much?” He asked, looking sheepish, and she giggled louder this time, nodding.

“Yeah, a little. But that’s the first time someone has called me ‘intelligent’ before pointing out my looks, so,” she bit her lip, shrugging, “I think it was still good.”

He matched her smile, and the two sat there for a second, both grinning like morons, before a voice interrupted them.

“Cassie?”

She nearly dropped her mug in surprise, turning to see Jim and Harvey in the doorway. Harvey looked like he was barely holding back laughter, but her older brother did not look pleased _at all._ His eyes narrowed in the lawyer’s direction, then turned back to her.

“Bullock and I need to talk to you.” He told her, nodding at the door. Irritation flared in her gut, and she shot him a glare before smiling at Dent and setting her mug down. Strolling out of the room, she purposefully bumped her shoulder into Jim’s, hearing him exhale in annoyance, before the two detectives followed her back towards their desks. The eldest Gordon glared at Dent on his way out, but as the ADA exited the building, Cas caught his eyes from behind her brother and smiled, waving a little before disappearing up the steps.

It was a quiet morning.

It was also Saturday, meaning no school for Bruce. Cas had seen him and Selina bolting up the steps, whispering excitedly, so she was positive they were wreaking havoc somewhere. Oh, well, if they weren’t breaking anything, she wasn’t going to stop them. Kids need to explore, it’s good for their health.

The blonde had just finished her book and was heading to the library to get a new one when she heard Alfred.

He was shouting.

“Run! Run!” The loud, harsh command shook her to her core, and her blood ran cold as she began running towards the sound. She hadn’t even made it to the end of the hallway when his voice sounded again, this time a little out of breath.

“Cassie! They’re in the house! Four of them!”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she began to turn around just in time for a man, four inches taller and at least eighty pounds heavier, coming through a door about fifteen feet in front of her, dressed completely in black and hands gloved. Without bothering to wait for him to catch onto her, she turned on her heel and took off, bare feet pounding against the carpets in the hallway as she ran. She heard his heavy boots thudding against the floor as he chased her, and she hooked a left, ducking into the kitchen.

Panting, she looked around, ready to run through the entrance to the backyard, but it was too late. The thug busted through the door, a heavy hand clamping down on her shoulder. Following the momentum, she dropped her shoulder towards the floor and reached back, grabbing his hand and turning to deliver a hard kick to his knee. He was faster than she anticipated, though, and dodged, pulling out a gun. Her senses and reflexes kicked into high gear like someone had just cranked up a dial at the sight of it, and she grabbed the muzzle with her left hand, shoving it away as her right came up and smashed into his wrist, forcing it away from the handle. She tried to point it, but he was too close, and kicked, the toe of his boot hitting her hand and knocking it across the floor.

A flurry of punches and kicks came at her, forcing her back, and she knew that even if she was dodging and catching the hits, she wasn’t too far from being backed into the table. Switching tactics, she reeled back and lifted her leg, planting her foot on a chair nearby and jumping. Her fingers wrapped around the chandelier, and she swung forward, shoving both feet into the man’s chest.

It did the trick; he was knocked back against the wall. Turning, she ran towards the gun, but he wasn’t as far as she thought. A hand grabbed at her hair, twisting the tangled curls around his fist, and she shouted in pain, grabbing back at his wrist and trying to alleviate the pressure on her head. He pulled, harder and harder, and that was when the sun glinted off of something out of the corner of her eye.

Alfred had been cleaning the knife drawer.

Bingo.

Reaching back, she used the same move she’d done with Zsasz. Lock a thumbless grip around the wrist, down, twist, pull towards you. The assassin grunted in pain, but she wasn’t done. Instead of completing the dislocation, she shoved his hand down, right onto the table, and snatched up the carving knife that was within arm’s reach. And before he could pull away, she slammed the blade straight through his palm and into the wood.

His scream was incredibly loud, dripping with pain, and he cursed her several times, but Cas wasn’t done yet. Turning, her fingers wrapped around the meat cleaver and she swung, busting the heavy tool over the back of the man’s head. It connected with a loud _crack!_ and he stilled, splayed across the table with his hand pinned to it.

Panting, she darted forward and grabbed the gun, checking to see that she had sixteen rounds left and one in the chamber before charging it and taking off into the hallway.

Thuds and shouts of pain directed her towards one of the sitting rooms near the back of the house, and she sped down the hall, button-hooking corners as she did. No one appeared to be hiding, but she didn’t relax until a shot sounded, making her jump. She ran into the room just in time to see Alfred, in a kneeling position, lowering the gun from where he’d fired a shot through the French door.

“Alfred! What-?!”

“Hurry, they’re after Bruce and Selina!” Without waiting to see if she came after him, the butler took off, and she followed, blue eyes scanning the area for the two young children.

They rounded the corner outside, however, to see their fading figures. Followed closely by a pack of people dressed in the same dark clothing as her own attacker. Raising her gun, she fired twice, cursing when the intruders ducked the bullets missed. One turned, raising his own weapon, and she heard Alfred cry “Cas!” Before she was suddenly shoved to the side, hearing the man shout in pain.

He’d shoved her out of the way.

Now bleeding from his shoulder, he ducked in cover, and Cassie did the same, trying to fire off more shots. The assassins laid down heavy cover-fire, though, and soon, they were too far away. The blonde jumped to her feet, running forward, hearing Alfred thundering after her. Finally, the stopped at the edge of the property.

There was no one around them. No kids, no assassins, no gunfire, no shouting.

They were gone.

Cas’s hand came off her gun, and she ran it through her hair in panic as she realized what had happened, horror welling up inside her. Alfred turned in another circle, grey eyes wild with panic, and shouted.

_“BRUCE!”_

By the time the cop had finished questioning her, Cassandra had found her jacket and boots, hurriedly slipping them on. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that Harvey, Jim, and Alfred were all done talking and going to try and leave her there.

And she was right; as she threw open the door, she saw the three men staring to walk out the door without her.

“Hey!” She cried, running down the stairs towards them, “Hey, stop!”

“No, Cas-“ Jim started, raising a hand, but she cut him off.

“Don’t tell me ‘no’, Jim; you’re going to look for Bruce, and I’m coming with you.” She told them firmly. Her older brother shook his head, and Harvey started to open his mouth, but she didn’t bother listening. Brushing past them, she opened the front door and turned back.

“So, are we going, or what?”

As it would turn out, Harvey knew a kid that knew Cat; ran with her on the street sometimes. His name was Mackey, and it was the same kid that got thrown through a window by the child snatcher a few months back. The teen seemed to think that Cat was in trouble, though, and his lips were sealed.

Cassie watched from her spot near the door as Harvey interrogated the boy, Alfred standing not too far away, leaned up against the wall, grey eyes narrowed.

“Come on, Mackey, I know you used to run with a girl called Cat.” Harvey pushed harder at the kid, hands braced on the table in front of him where Macey was sitting. “She’s in serious danger, Mackey.”

The kid scoffed. “Who isn’t, right? Crazy world.”

“How much?”

Alfred’s voice pulled her from her concentration, and she looked over to him, eyes widening, as he stepped towards the teen and opened his wallet.

“How much?”

Harvey and Mackey looked equally shocked, and the younger boy shot the detective a look, as if to ask _is this actually happening right now?_

“There’s one hundred.” The butler stated softly, placing a bill on the table.

Mackey looked conflicted for a few more seconds, but eventually, he sighed. “Look, I-I don’t know where Cat lives; she’s private about stuff like that. But,” he paused, “I know she got a new fence because her old one got popped. He’d know where to find her.”

“Who’s the fence?” Cassie spoke up, but Mackey only shrugged.

“I don’t know.” He bit his lip, then looked up at Harvey. “But I do know who would.”

“Oh yeah?” Harvey spoke up, voice raising. “Who’s that?”

At the harsh note in the detective’s voice, Mackey scoffed and rolled his eyes, sitting back. Seeing his opportunity, Alfred pulled out another one-hundred-dollar bill and laid it on top of the other. Harvey growled.

“Damn it, Alfred, save your cheese, I’ll beat the truth out of this kid with a roll of quarters!”

“Look, ask Fish Mooney!” Mackey finally snapped, and all three adult heads turned to him, surprised. “She runs _all_ the fences!”

Satisfied with his answer, Harvey straightened and walked towards the door, beckoning Cas to follow him. As she did, Alfred turned towards her, and she cocked her head, eyebrows raised.

The butler just shrugged, smirking.

“You sure you want to come in with us, Cas?” Harvey asked the blonde, eyes narrowed as they approached the front door to Mooney’s club. “Fish probably won’t be too happy to see you anytime soon.”

“Yeah, well, Fish is going to have to learn to put up with it. We need to find those kids.” She shot down, straightening her shoulders. Both men hesitated, but nodded and continued inside.

Full disclosure: Cassie _was_ scared. She’d be lucky if Fish didn’t shoot her on sight, to be completely honest. But she also meant what she’d said; they really needed to find those kids before the assassins, or any other twisted adult, got to them while they were on the streets. And if the crime boss was their best bet, then so be it.

The club was empty, seeing as it was the middle of the day, and several dancers were on their way off the stage when the trio walked in. The girls shot flirty greetings towards Alfred and Harvey, and two actually looked Cas up and down with seductive smiles, but they didn’t interact any further. Especially once Butch stepped forward.

“Busy day, Harvey.” He told the detective flatly, “Come back next year.” He nodded at Cas, smirking just a little. “How’s it goin’, lil Gordon?”

“Hand to God, Butch, I’ll be quicker than a sailor on shore leave.” He held up the picture of Selina, “Thief we’re tracking down. Look familiar? Goes by Cat.”

“Nope.” Butch responded, not even bothering to look at the picture. Cassie rolled her eyes, shifting in annoyance as Harvey continued.

“Apparently, Fish knows her.”

“Yeah, Fish knows everybody. But Fish is busy.”

“She works with one of your fences, a new guy.”

Butch’s eyes narrowed in mock confusion, “What’s a fence?”

“Don’t bullshit us, _Butch,_ she’s just a kid.” Cassie couldn’t bite back the snarl in her voice, and the hitman turned to her, looking her figure up and down.

“Normally, this is where I’d start commenting on how cute you look when you’re angry, but I’m a little tired, hot stuff, so why don’t you take your little group here and skedaddle?”

“Butch, this is _important._ ” Harvey ground out, fingers tightening on the picture and shoulders tensing. “Let us talk to Fish.”

“I told you, she’s _busy.”_

“I once knew a fella called ‘Butch’.” Alfred interjected, and the three turned towards him in surprise. “Yeah, he was a Whitechapel lad.” He stepped forward, a sardonic smirk stretching onto his lips. “We called him ‘Butch’, you see, cause he wasn’t.”

Cas had no idea what half of the words coming out of Alfred’s mouth meant. But that didn’t stop her from fighting to hold back her smile at Butch’s annoyed glance, watching as he eyes narrowed and irritation grew as Alfred carried on.

“It was a _windup._ It was a _joke name_ , cause the truth is, he was a horrible little toe rag.” The butler continued, and Butch interrupted, laughing tensely.

“Wait, wait; are you- are you threatening me? Is he threatening me?” He turned to Harvey and Cassandra, who shrugged. Continuing to laugh, he stepped closer to Alfred, clearly underestimating the older man. “Yeah? Cause you-“

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence. Alfred slammed his foot into the back of Butch’s knee, sending him to floor, and snatched a knife from his sleeve so fast that Cassie almost didn’t even see it. Holding the tip to his throat, he growled lowly.

“Now, where is this _Fish_?”

“Right here.”

The group looked up to see the Queen herself standing on the staircase, clad in her usual gold attire. Her gaze darkened upon seeing Cassie, but she continued down the steps as the two men got off the floor, glaring at each other. “What do you want, Harvey? And why did you think it would be a good idea to bring _her_ with you?”

“Nice to see you, too, _Fish._ ” Cas spat back, jaw clenched. Sensing the rising tension, Harvey stepped between the women, chuckling nervously.

“Ah, she’s just along for the ride. Hey, we’re looking for this girl.” He handed Fish the picture. “Street thief, goes by Cat; she works with one of your fences.”

Fish shrugged. “Looks familiar. What’s the urgency?”

“Professional killers are looking for her.” 

The woman’s eyebrows raised, albeit not looking all that surprised. “Professionals, hmm? This wouldn’t be the Lovecraft witness, would it?”

Cas’s heart dropped, and she sighed. “How the hell did you know?”

“Street’s talk, honey.” The older woman admonished before turning back to Harvey. “Using her to scare Lovecraft; she saw the Wayne’s killer, supposedly.”

“Yeah.”

Fish hummed again, reaching up to adjust the detective’s coat. “And you’re here because you want me to help you find her, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Fish shook her head, grinning. “Oh, Harvey,” she chuckled loudly, “why would I help _you two_ ,” she motioned to him and Cassandra, “of all people?”

The younger girl nearly spat out that she could find it in her withered, dead heart to help some fucking _children,_ but before she could even open her mouth, Alfred beat her to punch.

“She has Bruce Wayne with her, miss.”

_That_ got Fish’s attention. She turned to Alfred, eyebrows going up to her hairline. “Really?”

He stepped forward, face softer than either Harvey or Cas had ever seen. “Yes, miss. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the boy’s legal guardian. Pleased to meet you.” His voice was so much more… _gentle_ than Cassie had ever heard before. It was only then that she saw the look on Fish’s face, and her jaw dropped.

_Holy shit, Alfred…_

“We really need your help.”

“Well, you see, Alfred, I would love to help you, but it would infringe upon my personal interests. And why would I do that?”

Alfred stepped forward again, now very much in the woman’s space, and looked down straight into her eyes. “You have a very eloquent gaze, if I may say so, Miss Mooney. And I can see that you’re not a woman that would let petty self-interest outweigh… _honor_ …and compassion.”

Cas had to physically bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. The butler was playing Fish Mooney like a fiddle, and shockingly enough, the woman was _falling for it._ If the blonde was being completely honest, she didn’t even know the butler could _be_ that charming before; he was always so hard-headed.

Fish paused, looking the butler up and down, before her own seductive look slithered onto her face.

“I’ll make some calls.” She turned to walk away, then looked back, holding up a finger. “But remember this kindness.

Both Harvey and Cas looked back at Alfred as she walked away, one with raised eyebrows and the other struggling to hold in her snickers.

So, as it would turn out, Fish did know where the fence was.

And since this was Gotham, what was the trio greeted with when they got there?

If you guessed ‘gunfire’, then go ahead and give yourself a pat on the back.

Cas shrieked in surprise as a bullet pierced the backseat window. Flinging herself onto the upholstery, she reached for the doorhandle and wiggled out as Alfred jumped from the car and ran forward, ducking in cover behind a stack of crates.

“Alfred, wait!” Cassie shouted, pulling out her own weapon. But she only had ten shots, and as the butler lunged forward, bobbing and weaving through the gunfire, she used up almost all of it while attempting to push the assassins back. After she hit one in the chest, her gun clicked. Swearing, she turned to Harvey.

“Cas, don’t-!”

“I have to, Harvey! He’s by himself, there’s at least four of them!” And before the older man could grab her, she jumped up and ran for all she was worth into the warehouse.

Jim pulled up to the warehouse, tires squealing, and saw the commotion. His heart jumped when he remembered his younger sister was in there, and he ran forward, firing several rounds as he ducked behind the car with his partner. “Where are Alfred and Cassie?!”

“They both ran in! Alfred went first, and then Cas went after him!” Panting, Bullock shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Jim, I tried to stop her, but she was too fast!”

Jim’s eyes raised in horror to the warehouse, hearing the sound of gunfire and angry shouts. His baby sister was in there.

By the time Cas got into the warehouse, she’d lost sight of Alfred. But she’d found something else.

Or _someone_ else. Four of them.

The blonde skidded to a stop as four men stepped out, taller and wider than she. They had formed a square around her, no way out. Deep, lapis lazuli eyes turned and roamed over the threat as she slowly bent down, fingers curling around a busted, bent pipe lying at her feet.

“So,” she proclaimed loudly as she straightened, “You guys come here often?”

That seemed to be a cue for the first two; they lunged at her with knives, and Cas jumped back, the blade slicing through the front of her shirt. She weaved to the right, narrowly missing the second blade and slammed her foot into the thug’s knee, hearing him cry out in pain as she turned and whacked the pipe over the other thug’s head. He dropped, groaning, but she knew he wouldn’t be down for long as the other two ran towards her. Raising the pipe, she blocked one’s knife, stopping the man’s hand midair, as the other moved to punch her right in the head. Thinking fast, she jumped to the side, ramming her knee into the ribs of the one holding the knife and snatching the weapon from his hands before flinging it towards the other thug.

Her aim wasn’t deadly, but it was good enough. The man screamed as it buried into his shoulder, and Cas turned to give one final smack to the one getting off the ground before taking off. No way could she last too long with four of them, she’d be dead before things really started getting interesting.

Her boots smacked loudly against the concrete as she rounded the corner, yelping as she ran smack dab into another body and moving to crack their skull with her weapon.

“Woah, woah, Cassie, it’s me!”

She stopped her assault when she realized it was Harvey she’d run into, who was staring at her in shock and some relief. Releasing air she didn’t know she was holding, Cas dropped the pipe and shook her head.

“Did you find any?”

“Yeah, Jim and I managed to get a few,” the older man assured her, eyes carefully looking around. “You?”

“Yeah, I knocked out a couple back there.” She told him as they started walking forward, Harvey’s gun always in front of him. “One might still be conscious, but maybe he-“

“Down!”

They had just rounded the corner as she was speaking, and right as Cassie’s eyes fell on the familiar, comforting face of her older brother, Jim raised his gun, eyes narrowing as the shout left his lips.

Both she and Harvey dropped just in time for a shot to pop loudly through the air, sailing over their heads. They heard a pained grunt and then a loud crash, and both raised up slowly just in time to see a thug slowly slide down a pile of boxes he’d fallen on and hit the floor, the pistol in his hand clattering loudly to the ground.

Bruce was safe, and according to him, so was Selina. Cassie nearly passed out in relief when she saw the boy and Alfred, both alive and unharmed, as Jim and Harvey were finishing cuffing the remaining thugs. But unfortunately, it wasn’t a happy ending.

Lovecraft, the one who Dent had been hoping to prosecute and was so sure was behind the murder of the Wayne’s, had been killed by the same assassins with Jim’s gun. The news alone was enough to make Cas’s heart stop, and unfortunately, it was almost worst than she originally feared.

_“Arkham?”_ She asked incredulously, arms folded over her chest as she watched her big brother pack up his desk. Harvey was standing near them, looking just as shocked and furious.

“A security guard for nutjobs?” The detective pitched in. Jim merely shrugged off their comments as he finished loading some things into his box, like a picture of the two of them, both smiling at the camera with their arms around each other.

“ _Criminal_ nutjobs.” He corrected dryly, and Cas rolled her eyes as Harvey spoke up again.

“And you’re just going to take it?”

“It’s that or quit.”

“So, quit!”

Jim shook his head at his partners insistence, jaw setting. “That’s what they want me to do.” He said calmly, and Cas ran a hand through her hair, shock still bubbling in her chest.

“What the hell is happening here?!” She cried, “J, what are you _doing_? You’re just going to lay down and let Mayor James walk all over you?”

“I’ve only got two options, Cassie-“ Jim started in on his sister, but she wasn’t finished.

“No, you don’t! You always have another choice, Jim, you’re the one who taught me that!”

“It isn’t worth the risk, Cassandra!”

His tone was hard, harder than she had heard in a long time, and she stopped speaking, mouth setting in a firm line. Harvey looked between the two siblings somewhat nervously as the tension thickened, but then Jim sighed, face softening.

“I’m sorry, Cas. Look,” he approached his sister, taking her hands, “I want you to know I’m proud of you. I saw those thugs.” He told her, raising an eyebrow.

Cas smirked a little and gave an innocent shrug. “Maybe they shouldn’t try to pick on an innocent young girl next time.”

A smile came over Jim’s face at his sister’s antics, and he returned to gathering his stuff, glad things had simmered down a little, when both Cas and Harvey looked at someone behind him.

“Detective Gordon.” Ed Nygma stuttered out, looking somewhat afraid to make direct eye contact. “I’ve heard you’ve been thrown out in disgrace, is this true?”

“Yeah, it is.” The eldest Gordon confirmed, nodding. The frown on the forensics analysts face deepened.

“I’m gonna write a letter to the boss.” He told the detective firmly, then the look of uncertainty returned. “Um, which boss should I write to?”

“Forget it, Ed.” Jim denied, shrugging. “That’s the breaks, huh? You take care.”

He stepped forward to shake the man’s hand, and Ed shook it hesitantly before lunging forward and wrapping Jim in an awkward hug. Cassie couldn’t help but smile as she watched, mouthing _thank you_ to her friend as the two released. Finally, the taller man scurried off, offering a small smile to Cas before leaving.

“Maybe you could take him with you.” Harvey suggested after a beat of silence, and Cassie rolled her eyes, smacking him on the arm.

“Shut up, he’s a sweetheart.” She scolded lightly, and Jim nodded, chuckling.

“You know, you’d miss him if he was gone.” He reminded his now-ex partner, but Harvey shook his head.

“No, I wouldn’t.” 

Jim finally slid on his coat, picking up the large box of personal belongings. His partner watched regretfully, already missing the presence of the younger man.

“Let me buy you a drink sometime.” He told him, and Jim nodded, sticking out his hand.

“Soon.”

Once they were done, Harvey turned to Cas.

“And you be careful out there, baby Gordon. I’m not there to help you brother keep you out of trouble anymore.”

The blonde rolled her eyes again but couldn’t stop the smile that brightened her face. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the older man. He tensed at the affection, but she didn’t release.

“Thank you for helping him, Harvey.” She whispered sincerely, and at the sound of her voice, growing thicker with emotion, he relaxed and wrapped his own arms around her, returning the embrace. The two finally separated, and both siblings offered him one more grateful smile before they walked, side by side, shoulders back, out the front door.


	5. CHAPTER FOUR

Cassie’s sneakers slapped against the asphalt as she jogged up the steps and into the back entrance of the GCPD. Her hair, which had originally been pulled back into a bun on her head, was now blowing freely in the wind, the curls brushing over her neck and face. The chill bit at her skin, permeating through the jacket that she was wearing to cover the off-shoulder blue shirt she’d yanked on after she saw the news conference on the Arkham breakout.

Upon entering the bullpen, her blue eyes flitted over the crowd and the loud talking, policemen hauling shouting criminals into cells, before she finally spotted who she was looking for.

She stormed up the steps, but none of the three men seemed to hear her. Harvey was speaking once she got behind Jim and Ed’s eyes flitted towards her in surprise, but she didn’t hear what he was saying before her temper flared and took hold over her voice.

“James Peter Gordon!”

Both detectives turned to her as she stomped by her brother’s desk, eyes blazing. “Have you lost your mind?!” She cried, letting her bag fall to the floor with a soft _thud!_ “Do you really only have,“ She checked her wristwatch, “17 hours left of your job to catch this guy?”

“Good to see you too, Cas.” Jim told her dryly, but inside, he was incredibly glad his sister was ok. And seemed to look much healthier, too. He could tell she’d caught up on sleep since working at Wayne Manor; the dark circles under her eyes were nearly gone, and her skin was much brighter. But she only narrowed her eyes, face darkening at his humor.

“You know what, J, your whole ‘stick it to the man, fuck everyone, save my pride’ thing isn’t that cute anymore.”

“Well, if you stopped shouting at me,” he told her, resisting the urge to smile at how red his sisters ears got when she was pissed, “then I’d be able to tell you my plan.”

“You have a plan?”

“No, he doesn’t.” Harvey chimed in.

“Speaking of plans,” Ed chimed in, putting down the newspaper he’d been holding and bending at his feet, “Given the general mode of attack, may I suggest…” He grabbed two large pairs of black, rubber boots and showed them to the detectives. “You both wear your department issued galoshes out in the field.”

“Galoshes?” Harvey spoke up, face screwed up in distaste. Cassie snickered.

“Aw, you two will look so cute with your rainboots on.” She joked, then ducked her head as Harvey threw a wadded-up piece of paper her way.

“In the event of electrical misadventure, your footwear should be insulated.” Ed explained, then turned to Cassie regretfully. “Sorry, Cassie, I would give you a pair but the department doesn’t carry anything below a women’s nine.”

Cassie only nodded at him and reassured him it was ok as Harvey rolled his eyes. “No, mom,” he said exasperatedly, “I’m not going to wear my rubbers on the case.”

Jim turned his partner, eyebrows raised, before standing and stretching out his hand. “Give ‘em here, Ed. Thanks.”

A small prick of relief touched Cas’s chest when she realized her brother wasn’t going in _completely_ blind and unprepared, but her thoughts were interrupted by a new voice.

“Detective Gordon?”

A woman, a beautiful woman, had come up the steps to the desk clump. Cas stayed in her usual spot, perched on Jim’s desk in between he and Harvey, but she didn’t miss how her brother shot out of his seat. She looked at the woman again, then back at her brother, eyebrows raising. She looked to be about her brothers age and was also his height, with short black hair and warm brown eyes.

_And who is this?_

“Dr. Thompkins.” He greeted, shoulders rigid, and the woman smiled.

“My friends call me Lee.”

Cas turned to look at Harvey, smirking a little as she mouthed the word _friends_ to him. He rolled his eyes at the younger girl’s antics, but both turned their eyes and ears back to the interaction.

“Congratulations, you got your job back!” Lee was saying, and Jim shrugged.

“Depends on how you look at it.” He informed, tone underlined with regret, and Cas felt her heart jolt in her chest when she checked the time again.

_Holy shit, Jim, are you flirting or catching a serial killer?_

“I know you’re busy with the escapes,” Lee told him, “That’s why I’m here.”

“Is everything ok?” Jim interrupted, eyes narrowing in concern, “It must be chaos down there.”

_Oh, she must work at Arkham!_ Cas made the mental connection as Lee nodded, eyes still a little starry.

“We’re getting by just fine, thanks for asking.”

Luckily, Harvey had clearly had enough of the meet cute BS, cause he cleared his throat loudly. Both parties shook their heads, as if they’d forgotten where they were, and Cas suppressed a snicker.

“Oh, right,” Jim cleared his throat, “this is my partner, Harvey Bullock, and my younger sister, Cassandra Gordon.”

“Hola.” Harvey greeted, rising to his feet, and Cas waved. But the woman was staring at her, smile widening.

“Oh, of course! The one from your photograph, is that right?”

Cas cocked her head at her brother, confused at what the doctor meant, when Harvey interrupted.

“Who’s your little friend there?”

The blonde’s eyes were drawn to the small doll Lee had been carrying. It was creepy looking, but also kind of familiar. She narrowed her eye’s, head tilting to the side as she focused on it. Where had she seen that face before?

“Oh, this is why I’m here,” Lee explained, “one of the women in my wing is a pagan sorceress.”

“Of course.” Jim muttered, and Cas kicked his calf lightly as Lee continued.

“She’s very popular. The inmates make dolls to look like people that they want to curse, then give it to the sorceress to curse them in exchange for soda and candy.”

“I curse you all the time, you never give me candy.” Harvey complained, looking over to Jim, and Cas chimed in with a smirk.

“Ironically, I always stole his Halloween candy, and he always cursed at me.”

Jim leaned back and gave his sister a playful pinch on the shoulder as she swatted his hand away. Lee watched them with an amused smile before continuing.

“I asked her if Gruber had ever given her a doll to curse, and she said yes.” Lee turned the doll towards them, and Jim reached out to hold it as Lee continued. “This is the doll, his name is ‘Mr. M.’”

“Mr. M…” Cassie murmured, watching as Jim turned the doll over in his hands, eyes narrowed in a similar expression. Suddenly, Jim’s eyes widened, and he held the doll up towards his partner and younger sister.

“Who does this look like to you?”

“M…,” Harvey repeated, then his own eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. “Holy shit, _M!_ It’s Maroni! Jack Gruber worked with someone during those bank robberies, and whoever it was sold him out! That fits perfectly!”

Jim put the doll on his desk and snatched up his coat as Harvey did the same, turning to Lee as he did so. “Thank you so much, Lee, this is incredibly helpful.”

“Oh, of course!” The woman reassured, smiling. “You owe for a double six-pack of root beer, though.”

Jim smiled back, looking a little distracted, and the two sat like that for several seconds before Harvey cleared his throat again, now looking insanely annoyed. Shaking his head and blinking, Jim bid Lee one more goodbye and then he and his partner ran out the door.

Cassie, however, stayed on her seat on the desk. She watched the exchanges between the two, and once Jim was out of the building, she turned back to the woman, giving her the friendliest smile she could. “So, doctor, huh? That’s pretty awesome.”

“It’s definitely interesting at times, believe me.” Lee chuckled, then held out her hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you; Jim talks about you a lot.”

“He does, huh?” Cas asked, smirking a little. “I’m sure he gripes about his kid sister following him around.”

“Oh, no, actually! Not at all. He’s got this picture in his wallet of the two of you, and he brags about you quite a bit. Tells me you’re a registered EMT and are currently working as a nanny for Bruce Wayne.” Lee smiled warmly. “He’s incredibly proud.”

It wasn’t news to Cassie that her brother was happy she’d found a more stable job with better pay and less bloody carnage on an every-shift basis. But hearing that her brother had bragged about her, and was so incredibly proud of her, actually shocked Cas. Jim wasn’t cold by any means, he loved his sister and she loved him. But he also had never been one to verbally express his emotions, and even less so after his stint in the Army.

So, realizing that he’d bragged about her, that he stated out loud how proud he was, made Cas’s chest feel a little warmer.

“Shoot, I’ve got to be to the asylum soon.” Lee stated as her watch beeped. Looking back to the young woman, she shook her hand again. “It was wonderful to meet you, Cassandra.”

Cas waved her other hand. “Just Cas or Cassie is fine, Dr. Thompkins. Only Jim calls me that.”

“Well, then you can call me Lee.”

Cassie heard the commotion before it even entered the bullpen, and she looked up from her spot sitting in Jim’s chair with her feet propped on the desk, reading a book, just in time to see Maroni and several of his goons walk through the door; they all looked like they’d been both burned and hit by a truck. She raised an eyebrow as one of the goons put an unconscious form on the desk and Maroni sat down, immediately barking out an order for coffee.

As Jim and Harvey bounded up the steps, she closed her book and swung her feet down, nodding at Maroni. “So, let me just take a stab and say Gruber or Buchinsky or whoever managed to get a few hits in?”

“Yeah, some kind of silent bomb.” Jim confirmed, grabbing some papers. “Looks like they all got some nasty burns and a painful shock, but they’ll live.”

“And why is Maroni _here_?”

“Cause your brother’s kind of cuckoo, baby Gordon.” Harvey explained tiredly, then looked over at Jim. “When you use a goat as bait, shouldn’t the goat be out in the jungle, not in the house?”

Maroni was now surrounded by cops and was laughing boisterously as he told them anecdotes. Jim nodded his head towards the bullpen. “This house is the best defended spot in Gotham. Buchinsky is crazy and arrogant and resourceful. Wherever Maroni is, he’ll come after him. He’ll enjoy the challenge.” Suddenly he paused, then turned to Cas. “Speaking of which, you can’t be here.”

“What?” Cas cried, jumping to her feet. “What was that crap you just said about this being the ‘best defended spot in Gotham’?”

“Buchinsky had a _long_ rape record, Cassandra.” Jim told her indignantly, eyes narrowing. “There’s no way I’m risking you like that.”

“Oh, please, I’m not afraid of some pervert.” Cas scoffed, but Jim unfolded his arms, taking several angry steps towards his sister as his jaw set.

“Damn it, Cas, I said no! You can’t be here!” Jim voice raised, and the conversations around them quieted as several pairs of eyes fell on the arguing siblings.

Cas’s hands were clenched by her side, her knuckles white, as she glared up at her brother. A part of her knew he was right, being around when a convicted violent rapist was going to show up was kind of a horrible idea. But hearing him order her around and treat her like a child kind of squashed all instincts of basic self-preservation, and another part of her brain wanted to risk it just because he was trying to talk to her like that.

However, just because Cassandra Gordon was insanely stubborn and horribly prideful did not, by any means, make her stupid. She knew her brother had full jurisdiction to have her escorted out or put into custody until the danger was over. Jim Gordon didn’t want to jeopardize his relationship with his sister, but he’d take her alive and hating him over still on good terms and dead.

So, with one final glare, she grabbed her stuff and stormed past him, purposefully slamming her shoulder against his enough to make him stumble. The room had struck back up into the usual loud chatter and work, but several watched as the young woman stormed past the holding cells and towards the back door, beautiful face twisted into a scowl.

But she didn’t make it.

The lights flickered, a low buzz filling the air. Cassie’s steps slowed, then halted as she looked around. The buzzing was getting louder and louder, and she felt the hair on the back of her neck physically stand on end when it first happened.

One of the lights overhead burst, sparks raining down on Maroni and the cops around him. They all cried out and ran for cover, arms covering their heads. Another burst, and another, and then large bolts of electricity were upon them.

They hit the floor, they hit the desks, they hit the lamps. Cops and convicts alike were shouting and running around, leaping over desks and the railings upstairs in a desperate attempt to escape the dangerous lightning bolts. A female policeman screamed as she was struck and tumbled down the stairs while several convicts screamed in pain as they were shocked by the bars in the cells.

A loud creaking interrupted Cassie’s mad dash for cover, and she turned to see one of the light fixture’s beginning to separate from the now-fried wires. A young man with dark hair was standing underneath it, his back to her and clearly unaware of the danger.

Impulsively, the blonde dropped her bag and bolted forward, slamming into the man’s side right as the fixture fell to the spot where he’d been standing.

Both Cassie and the young man hit the floor, grunting in pain, and Cas inadvertently landed on top of him as his back met the floor. Groaning, she put her hands on either side of this head and went to push herself off when she saw who was on top of, and her eyes widened in shock and indignation.

“You!”

Oswald Cobblepot stared up at her in shock and some confusion, then realization dawned on him. “Cassandra Gordon?”

That was the last thing out of his mouth before the buzzing crescendo into a loud, sharp, snapping noise. Pain flared up her arms and into her chest and head before the world went completely black.

By the time Cassie had come to, it was clear someone had shifted she and Cobblepot. She was laying across his chest, much to her dismay, and she scowled at him as she pushed herself up. Officers around her were slowly coming to, and as she stood, Jim ran over to her. He frantically pulled her up, sitting her on a chair and checking her over for wounds. But, thanks to landing on their enemy, she’d managed to avoid any head injuries upon being electrocuted, which was more than anyone else in the building could say.

Once Buchinsky was arrested and put on a truck back to Arkham, her brother was reinstated. She watched proudly from where she was cleaning a cut on her cheek, sliced by a piece of glass from the light fixtures above her.

“Cassandra Gordon.”

She paused in gently wiping the saline-soaked cloth against her face and turned, face dropping into a glower when she saw who was behind her.

“What do you want, _Penguin_?”

He clearly noticed the vitriol in her tone by the way he pursed his lips, but then smoothed his face over. “I wanted to come and thank you for saving me. That’s both Gordon’s now who have spared my life.”

Cas scoffed and dropped the rag into the bowl of saline, smirking as the man flinched when some of the saltwater got on his clothes. “Don’t thank me, Cobblepot. I didn’t recognize you. If I’d known it was you, I would’ve just left you there.”

His face dropped in shock, but the expression didn’t hold for long. Soon, a smirk grew on his face. “Yes, I suspected that much.”

She turned, still perched on the desk, and crossed her legs as she sat up straight. “So, is this the part where you start begging me for help like you did with my brother?”

Cobblepot chuckled, then shuffled closer. Cassie couldn’t hide her sneer as he stepped closer, but she also didn’t move. She wasn’t going to be the one to back down.

“I’ve actually learned my lesson when it comes to you Gordon’s; so stubborn, so prideful. See,” his eyes flickered over her face before going back to her eyes, “I’ve learned that I don’t need to go dragging you into the underworld of this city. You’ll just keep coming back, you’re _addicted_ , you can’t help it.” He shook his head, smirk widening into a wicked grin. “I mean, why else do you keep coming back here?”

“I’m helping my brother-“

“Oh, come now,” He cut her off, making her jaw tighten. “You keep coming back because you _love this,_ Cassandra. You love the adrenaline rush, the excitement, the _risk.”_

“Is there a problem here?”

Jim’s hard voice made Cobblepot jump, and the two looked over to see her big brother and Bullock, both standing shoulder to shoulder. They were glaring at the man in front of Cassie, and it was then she noticed how close they’d gotten; they were practically breathing the same air.

“Of course not!” The man exclaimed cheerfully, backing up several steps. “Just thanking your dear sister for helping me.” He turned to Cassie again. “Be sure to get that cut properly looked at, Cassandra. I’d hate for you to gain any scars from this city.”

They were well-meaning words, but none of the parties there missed the veiled threat. They all glared as he limped towards the exit.

“Can the criminals in this town get any worse?” Cassie muttered as she picked the rag back up.

The loud sounds of sirens, car horns, and shouts of angry pedestrians had all faded into background noise for Cassandra. She’d lived in this city for so long that she noticed the silence quicker than she noticed the noise.

The clouds overhead offered their same pale, gray rays of sunlight as she stepped out of the market, brown grocery bag clutched in one arm. Bruce and Alfred had just returned from Switzerland that morning, and she was due to work tomorrow. They’d offered her a chance to come along, but she’d been reluctant to take the vacation with everything going on.

She was running through dinner options for herself and Jim that night when she rounded a corner-

-and smashed right into another person.

A startled cry left her lips as she hit the ground, her groceries spilling out of the bag and onto the concrete. She groaned, scowling as she realized an entire carton of eggs has shattered across the pavement and the jug of milk had bounced so hard when it hit the ground that the cap had popped off, the white liquid leaking out of its packaging.

“Would you-“ A young voice started to speak, clearly angered, until she looked over at him from her spot on the ground. He stopped speaking as they met eyes.

He was younger, roughly her age. His hair was red, redder than she’d ever seen before on a person, and his skin was pale against his dark, ratted clothes. He had green eyes, ones that were wide as they made eye contact.

“I’m sorry, you ok?” She asked, wincing as she moved to stand. Her voice seemed to snap him out of his shock, and he stood, moving to help her up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He responded, looking her over. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

Cassie couldn’t help but notice that his tone was much different than it was when he first started speaking, but she let it slide, giving him a small smile. “No, just some scrapes, it’s fine.” Her gaze moved down to the ruined groceries, and she sighed. “Can’t say the same for my groceries, unfortunately.”

“Oh, here, let me help.” He offered, bending down to help scrape the ruined portions back into the bag. The food was clearly wrecked, and halfway through cleaning it up, Cas decided to just cut her losses; she’d need to go back into the market.

“Thanks.” She told him sincerely as he helped her dump it all into the trashcan. “Sorry I didn’t notice you, the bag was a little too tall for me.”

“No, don’t worry about it, I should be the one apologizing.” He told her, holding up his hand. “Just have a lot on my mind, y’know?”

“Tell me about it.” She agreed, tucking a blonde curl that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. They sat in a somewhat awkward silence before she spoke up, hoping to get her errands finished now that she was behind. “Um, thanks for helping me, and I’m sorry again.” She started to turn and walk back, but his voice stopped her.

“Wait! Um,” As she turned back around, he gestured between them. “Why don’t I help you?”

“You don’t have to-“ She started, but he cut her off.

“No, please, it would make me feel better. I can even help you get them home.” He offered, looking somewhat hopeful. Cas bit her lip, looking towards the store and then back at him.

“Well, I’m not sure I know you well enough to follow me home,” She turned down, then smiled. “But I would appreciate some assistance, I guess.”

The boy’s face broke out into a wide grin, wider than she’d ever seen before, and he nodded, moving to walk with her.

“Maybe we should start with some introductions.” He told her, then held out his hand as they walked. “I’m Jerome.”

Cassie shook it, smiling at him. “Cassie, nice to meet you.”

Cas would be lying if she said she didn’t somewhat enjoy Jerome’s presence; for one thing, he was close to her age, being only a year younger at eighteen. He was also pretty funny, and usually got a laugh or two out of her during their time together. But something was throwing her off.

Jerome was kind of shy, he had a tendency to smile at the ground or say his words in a very hesitant voice, but part of his demeanor set Cas on edge. She could tell that being shy wasn’t his first instinct, especially when angered. When they were leaving the market that same day after he helped her, some guy had bumped into them and rudely told them off. She saw rage flash in Jerome’s eyes, but he seemed to take a deep breath and calm down, snapping back to his regular, puppy dog stare. Like he’d flipped a switch. The whole thing made the hairs on her neck stand on end.

She’d followed up on her statement that he couldn’t follow her home; she knew better than to trust a complete stranger, especially in Gotham. But they’d exchanged numbers before separating. As she walked off, she could’ve sworn she felt him staring at her.

Cas was back to work that next day; it was good to be around Alfred and Bruce again. She didn’t realize how much she missed them until she was back in the manor, laughing with Alfred as they cooked lunch and dinner and helping Bruce with his research. Selina hadn’t come back around, despite Bruce and Alfred going out on daily rides to search for her in Gotham’s streets. For several days, things were simply routine and normal, which Cassie had never been so grateful for.

But as she was walking out of the manor to head home one night, a loud crash and shattering glass made her jump. Her heart went to her throat, and she bolted towards the study where she knew Bruce was.

By the time she got there, he was already storming out, tears streaking his face; it was clear he’d been crying for a while.

“Bruce,” She started, but he ignored her, moving to storm past her. She grabbed his arm gently and positioned herself in front of him. “Hey, stop.” She ordered firmly, checking over his person for wounds. “What was that? I heard a crash, are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” He told her, voice angry. But even she could hear the slight tremor in his tone. “Selina lied.” 

“What?”

“She lied!” He suddenly shouted, and if Cassie hadn’t had so much training with aggressive people, she may have jumped back from the rage in his voice. “She lied to me! She never saw my parent’s killer, she just didn’t want to go to juvie! It was all for nothing!”

“Bruce-“ She started, but he was already running away, rounding the corner before she could stop him. “Bruce!”

But he was already gone, and Cas paused in chasing him. Whatever he was dealing with, chasing after him wasn’t going to help; he needed to calm down. It occurred to her that something was still broken, and she turned on her heel, moving to enter the study.

Alfred was already there, sweeping up pieces of glass. A defeated sigh left Cas when she saw that the crash had been the snow globe Bruce had gotten Selina as a gift; she must have been there, and that was how Bruce found out.

“So, he told you then?” Alfred asked, pausing in his cleanup. The blonde nodded, running a hand through her curls and setting her bag and coat on the couch.

“He did. I’ll have to call my brother, make sure he knows if he hasn’t already been told. That way, he can find some more leads.”

Alfred snorted derisively, shaking his head. “Like he’s got any others at this point.”

His words and tone made Cas freeze in her movements to grab her phone from her coat pocket, and she paused, turning to the butler with narrowed eyes. “Excuse me?”

Alfred looked up from his sweeping and opened his mouth but saw the look on her face and shook his head. “Nothing, don’t worry about it, Cassie.”

“No,” Cassie said, tossing her coat back onto the couch and bracing one hand on it while the other went to her hip, “You clearly have an opinion, Alfred, so let’s hear it.”

The older man straightened, then set the broom to the side, clearly trying to come up with the right way to express it. “Well, I think we can all agree that Detective Gordon hasn’t exactly had any breaks in the case except for a false accusation and now a false witness.”

“And how is that his fault?” Cas demanded, feeling her blood start to go hot.

“It’s not, but I think maybe he’s become more of a hinderance than help; all he’s done is give Bruce false hope.”

“Alfred, he’s the reason that Mario Pepper isn’t still named for the murders.” Cassie told him, voice beginning to rise, “If it wasn’t for him, then the real killer would be getting off scot-free.”

“I just think that Master Bruce would be better off if he were to find these leads with his own skill.” Alfred argued back, and Cas’s mouth dropped open, eyes going wide.

“Oh my hell…” She whispered, staring at him, “Oh my- so _that’s_ why Bruce is so gung-ho about doing this on his own, you’re _encouraging_ him!” Her voice rose to a disbelieving shout, and she felt fire start to seep into her chest. Alfred straightened, his own eyes blazing.

“I love that boy, alright, I’m just trying to ensure he knows how to survive the real world!”

“The real world?! Holy shit, Alfred, the ‘real world’ is downright _cruel_ when you’re on your own! I can’t believe this!” She cried, raising her hands to her head and then letting them drop. “I mean, here I am trying to get Bruce to talk about his feelings and open up to other people in a healthy way, and you’re encouraging him to be a hermit!”

“He’s not a hermit, he’s _smart!_ The boy’s got to learn how to stay strong in conditions that are less than ideal, you can’t always depend on other people!”

“You mean he can’t depend on the _wrong_ people?” She shot back, and her fury increased when Alfred paused at her words. “Yeah, I know how you feel about Selina. You don’t exactly hide your hatred for the _twelve-year-old_ _girl!”_

“So I don’t want him hanging around a common criminal, that’s wrong, then?” He shouted, looking affronted. “Not ever person has good in them, and I was right! She couldn’t be trusted!”

“She’s not some common street criminal, she’s a _kid_!” Cassie returned, now feeling her anger pick up to a point where she couldn’t stop. Like when you pushed a snowball down a hill. “And what about her do you not like, hm? She’s not some preppy, high status, sugar and spice little girl? That she throws it back at you, encourages Bruce to think outside the box and not like some unfeeling soldier?”

“Of course not, but she and Bruce, they’re…” He trailed off, looking frustrated. “Well, they’re _different!_ He needs someone that’s-that’s more like him!”

Cas stopped, completely unable to respond. It dawned on her right away what he meant, and she stared at him, lips parted in shock and disgust. She started to speak, then stopped, shaking her head. Bending down, she grabbed her coat and bag and stormed out of the study, not looking back, even when she heard him call for her.

“Cassandra!” He shouted again, and this time a hand grabbed her arm and turned her around. It took everything in her not to slap him clean across the face. “Stop it, where are you going?”

“Home; I’m not going to be a part of you raising Bruce to think that everyone who isn’t a Wayne is beneath him. It’s _disgusting._ ” She started to turn away again, but he pulled her back.

“It’s not like that, I’m just trying to teach him that there are certain things that must be done on your own! That’s how the real world-“

“The real world?!” She cut off, voice rising to a shout. “And what do you know about the ‘real world’,” She quoted the word aggressively with her fingers, “huh, Alfred? Do you have any idea how _bad_ things are in this God-forsaken city? People are _dying_ on the streets, kids like Selina are sleeping in cardboard boxes at night and being fucking _sold_ for profit, and you’re in this big house trying to act like it was wrong for Bruce to want to _help_?! You’re actually trying to tell him to avoid having feelings of empathy and compassion!”

“Don’t you come judging me!” He shouted back, pointing an angry finger at her, “You’ve never raised a child before, you’ve never-!”

“Never what? Never suffered?!” Her voice rose to a roar, and her eyes were so bright with rage that Alfred almost took a step back; she looked like she was seconds away from hitting him. “What is it about Selina that you hate, huh? You hate that she wears black all the time, you hate that she talks back? Or what about the fact that she curses, or that she’s constantly at risk of being locked up in juvie? Cause guess what? So was I!”

Her statement actually shocked the butler into silence, something she’d never been able to do. He stopped, eyes going wide as she panted slightly, jaw tight as she stared back at him.

“My brother was gone; away on deployment. My mother worked two jobs to support me and at the time was still getting sick; her cancer diagnosis was just down the road, and my father was dead before I was even born. I started getting mixed with these seniors when I was a freshman in high school, and they eventually got me to start selling cocaine for them. It went on for almost a year until Jim caught me sneaking out while he was home on leave. He and my mom fought to keep me out of jail, but it didn’t work. I was locked up for nine months. Should’ve been a year, but I got out on good behavior.”

Alfred was still silent, and he shifted, clearly looking for words, but she wasn’t going to wait for him to explain himself.

“And you know what? I _know_ men like you. Men who look down on those of us who were in shitty situations, who had to make the hard choices. So, you’ll forgive me if I don’t want to wait around for Bruce to turn into some stuck up, purist nightmare that you’re gunning for.” She yanked her coat on aggressively, lips twisted into a snarl. “Consider this my resignation.”

And with that, she stormed towards the door, angrily slamming it shut behind her.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to come.”

Cas looked up from her cappuccino to see Jerome smiling at her, his own mug clutched in his hands. She smiled, tucking another curl behind her ear.

“Yeah, well, I had a pretty bad day yesterday. Thought to myself, ‘I could use some laughter’.” She gestured to him with her mug as she raised it to her lips, “Then lo and behold, you called me.”

“Yeah, I’ve been working up the guts to dial your number.” He chuckled, looking somewhat sheepish. “I didn’t think you’d agree to see me again. Plus, I was pretty sure it was a fake number.”

Cas rolled her eyes playfully. “Trust me, I don’t give out fake numbers. If I thought you were a serial killer, I wouldn’t have given you the time of day.”

The two laughed together, and Jerome took a sip of his coffee before looking back at her.

“So, what do you do?”

“I, uh,” She paused, searching for the right words, “I’m an EMT, technically, but I just got done with a job as a nanny.”

“Oh, how long were you a nanny?”

“Honestly? About three months.” She told him, chuckling ruefully. “I actually just quit yesterday; that’s why it was so bad.”

“Horrible kids?”

“No, actually.” She denied, feeling her face shadow with regret as she thought back to the argument. “He was amazing, the kid. But his guardian and I got into it about a disagreement over raising him. And I know I can’t make that decision, so, I decided I didn’t want to be a part of things when they went south.”

“I’m sorry.” He told her sincerely, “That must have been very hard.”

“Yeah.” She agreed softly, then blinked, shaking her head and looking up to him. “But enough about my depressing life, what do you do?”

“Alright, don’t laugh.” He told her, wincing, “And don’t run, either. I live with my mother, currently.”

“Oof, mommy’s boy.” She whispered mockingly, then chuckled. “Sorry, I’m just joking. I mean, you’re still young, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I just hit eighteen. I’d love to move out, but…” He trailed off. “Well, my mother and I have some bad blood between us. She’s got a bit of a drinking problem, and she’s never been mother of the year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Cas told him regretfully, “I find it surprising, though. She raised a great kid.”

This seemed to amuse him, for whatever reason, and he smiled at her before continuing. “Anyway, I guess I’m still holding out for…well, for a way to fix it, I guess.”

“Any siblings?”

He paused, as if surprised she’d asked, then shook his head. “No. I’m her only child.” For just one second, something flickered across his face, but it was gone before she could distinguish what it was. “What about you? What do your parents do?”

“Actually, my parents passed away.” She told him, pressing her lips together. Not only did she miss her mother, but she hated telling people that. It was a guaranteed way to get lots of unwanted sympathy and lots of pity for the rest of the encounter.

But to her shock, he simply frowned. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be.” She told him, taking another sip of her coffee. “My dad died before I was born, and my mom passed away almost five years ago, now. It’s just me and my big brother.”

“Oh, you have siblings?”

“Yeah, my brother Jim. He’s great, and he’s practically a parent.” She paused, then laughed, shaking her head. “He’s a little… _over-protective_ at times.”

“How does he feel about you being out on a date?” Jerome asked, laughing slightly. She bit her bottom lip and sheepishly raised her eyes to his. His mouth dropped open, barely stifling his chuckles.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Trust me,” She assured him as he laughed, “I’m saving you from getting a phone call at ten o’clock at night asking you about your intentions for me.”

They continued to talk as they finished their drinks, and then for almost an hour after that. Despite his weird behavior, Cas found herself enjoying his company. He seemed like a nice guy, and they even enjoyed some of the same things, like old jazz music and reading. Eventually, they got to a game of twenty questions.

“Alright, number eighteen.” Jerome told her, rubbing his hands together as he fixed her with a thoughtful gaze.

“Better make it a good one, we’re almost done.” She teased him. He took a few second, studying her, before speaking.

“What’s one hobby you enjoy that not many people know about?”

Cassie paused, taking her time to mull over her answer. “I like to sing.”

“You can sing?” He repeated, looking delighted, but she shook his head.

“I didn’t say I _could_ , I just said I _like to._ ” She corrected, “My mother put me through piano for over ten years, so it was just kind of a hobby I picked up. I hated just playing, so I started singing the lyrics of whatever song I was practicing to make time go by faster.”

“Can I hear it?”

“Hear what?”

“Your singing! Come on, I bet you have a beautiful voice.” He teased, but she smirked, shaking her head.

“Nope, sorry. You’ve got to get to at least date number three before I’ll even _hum._ ” She denied tauntingly. He stopped, a devious smile taking over his face.

“So, you’re saying there will be more?”

Cas fiddled with her empty mug, shrugging. “I don’t know. Kind of depends on how much you impress me.”

“I think I’ll take that as a challenge, Gordon.”

“You can take it however you like, Valeska.”

The next few days passed by without incident. Jerome called her every day but wasn’t able to go on a date with her due to work, and she realized with a start that she still didn’t know what he did. When she asked, he’d simply tell her it was a surprise.

Alfred didn’t call her, and neither did Bruce. Her bills were coming up, and Cas knew she should probably make amends, but couldn’t. She stood by what she said: she wouldn’t be a part of what was happening. Jim, however, was not pleased to hear the news.

“Cassandra,” He started, his voice holding that familiar lecturing note that she absolutely hated, and she cut him off, already annoyed.

“Please, don’t start, Jim.” She groaned, letting her head fall back. They were at the precinct, Cassie perched on her usual spot on top of his desk. Harvey was listening half-heartedly as he looked over some paperwork for their current case. They’d rescued a woman from drowning so her killer couldn’t harvest her adrenal glands, but the killer got away. Despite seeing his face, it was getting trickier and trickier to find him.

“You didn’t need to quit-“

“Hey, he insulted you! And me!” She defended, voice indignant. “I’m not going to sit around and allow someone to shit all over my life decisions; I already paid the price, and I’ve accepted what I did was wrong. I don’t need him to get all high and mighty on me.”

Jim’s face softened, and he opened his mouth again, probably to comfort her, but was cut off when a familiar, friendly voice spoke over him.

“Jim, Cassandra.”

Both siblings looked over to see Lee Thompkins coming up the steps, looking somewhat nervous. Despite her bad situation, Cas still couldn’t hide her smirk as her brother stood, back straight, at the sight of the woman he was seeing.

“Lee.” He greeted, straightening his suit jacket. “You, uh, you remember my sister, Cassie, and Detective Bullock.”

The dark-haired woman greeted the pair of them as Jim explained, “Lee is our new M.E.”

Cassie turned to her brother in surprise as Harvey spoke up, voice flat. “You’re kidding.”

“No.” Jim stated behind a tight smile.

“Oh, good, you’ve met!” Captain Essen interjected, walking over to the group from her office.

“Detective Gordon and I know each other.” Lee explained politely, shooting Jim a look before turning to shake the woman’s hand.

“Oh, right. From Arkham?”

“Yeah. Arkham.” Cassie cut her brother off before he could speak with a smirk but jumped when he poked her in the side.

“Welcome aboard.” Harvey congratulated, leaning back to shake Lee’s hand.

“Happy to be here.” She turned to Jim, a mischievous look lighting up her expression. “Good to see you again, detective.”

“It was good to see you too, doctor.” Jim responded stiffly, and Cas allowed her head to fall as Essen and Lee walked away, the first showing the latter around the bullpen and beginning to lead her back towards the M.E.’s room.

“You have no luck at all, do you, brother?”

“What do you mean?” Jim tried to shrug off as he sat behind his desk.

“You find a fine lady like that,” Harvey continued, “And she comes to work with you in the same building? It’s a damn shame.”

“Why?”

“Come on, J, with how uptight you are whenever you’re in this building?” Cas told her brother flatly, eyebrows raised, “I’m surprised you even acknowledged her.”

“Yeah, and office romances always end in tears. _Tears._ ” Harvey warned, nodding at the blonde.

“It’s not gonna be like that.” Jim denied, but Harvey looked up at him from his desk, eyes narrowed.

“Trust me. I know.”

Both Jim and Harvey ended up getting a lead on their suspect, so they were off to a high school to investigate. To think the serial killer was someone who’d been allowed access to children on a daily basis was a thought that sent chills down Cas’s spine, but she did her best to help while still in the precinct. Essen had made it clear before they were even out the door that Cas couldn’t go on calls unless there was a strong chance of needing medical assistance. So, recon calls normally meant she was stuck.

She had just come from talking to Jim and Harvey about the missing adrenal glands on all the bodies when she saw him.

“Oh, for hell’s sake…” Cassie muttered, starting down the steps as she watched Ed walk up to Oswald and begin conversing. She didn’t know the mob members reason for being there, but she could only guess it had something to do with her big brother.

As she stepped closer, heeled boots clicking quietly on the linoleum, she heard the end of Oswald’s sentence.

“You do know who I am?”

“I know who you are.” Ed responded, sounding somewhat confused. Oswald smirked.

“Then you know you’re standing too close.”

As Ed’s face dropped and he took a step back, both men looked over as she approached.

“Don’t worry, Ed.” She reassured her friend, glowering at the man in front of them. “With no guards at his beck and call, he’s all bark and no bite.”

“Cassandra.” Oswald greeted, though she could hear the faux politeness coating his tone. “What a pleasure to see you again.”

“What do you want?” She cut right to the chase, already feeling impatient. He clearly didn’t enjoy her tone, and his lips pursed before he spoke again.

“I’m sending out invitations for the opening of my club tonight.” He informed her, fake cheerfulness back on. “I wanted to hand over both your and your brother’s invitations personally.”

She accepted the sleek black paper he gave her, which was folded in half and had fancy silver lettering across the front that read _Oswald’s._ The invitation was not well written, and the name lacked just about everything. Fish Mooney’s name was unique, Penguin’s sounded like an old folk’s restaurant.

“And why would you come down here, thinking we want to see you?” She questioned, holding the invitation between two fingers. He shrugged, smirking. She hated that smirk, he only ever wore that expression when he had a secret.

“Maybe you don’t, but your brother might.”

Cassie scoffed, pursing her lips as the two stared each other down, before ripping the invitation in half. Cobblepot’s face dropped immediately, and she walked forward until she was directly in front of his face.

“See, I’d come, but I don’t show up to B-grade bars and clubs. Call me high-strung, but I like at least a _little_ success when it comes to the night life.” She whispered tauntingly, watching in amusement as his face grew red with anger. Reaching up, she slapped the ripped invitation against his chest and turned back to Ed, who was watching the interaction with wide eyes. “Let’s go, Ed.”

The forensics analyst moved to scurry after her, turning to see the new club owner glaring after the pair.

“Thank you for that, Cassie.” Ed told the blonde sincerely as the two walked towards the M.E. lab. “I fear Mr. Cobblepot was misinterpreting my meaning.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Ed.” She told him warmly, shaking her head. “Penguin’s a coward; he relies on the muscle around him to enforce his word. Until he gets better at sacking up and doing the hard job, he’s never going to be successful or in charge, not in this city.”

Ed hummed, then smiled at her. “Well, let’s hope that’s the last time you’re stuck between us.”

Cas chuckled at him. “Yeah, hopefully, huh?”

“Maybe we could go to Penguin again.”

Cas looked up from where she was looking over the case file at Jim’s desk as her brother paced; Harvey was sitting at his desk, looking tired. They’d been mulling over where they could find Gerald Crane for over three hours now, and it was starting to get dark out. She guessed this could be seen as a positive for now being unemployed; she had more time to insert herself into murder cases at her brother’s job.

“No. Absolutely not.” Jim shot down immediately, and Cas couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at him in surprise. Didn’t he realize that without any new leads, they were just waiting on the next body?

“He helped us with Flass, maybe he’ll help us with Crane.” Harvey tried to reason, but Jim shook his head, face hardening.

“No, I’m not going back to him.”

“It’s worth a try-“

“No, it’s not!” Jim finally cried, eyes blazing, and Cas reached up to rub her temples as Harvey snapped back.

“Then we wait for another body to drop, cause we’re not gonna find him here!”

As Cas opened her eyes again, feeling a migraine forming, she paused.

“Wait a second…” She muttered, picking up the paper in the case file. It was her brothers scrawled out notes, and despite his deplorable handwriting, she could see he’d written down four witnesses talking about how his wife died. “They all said Crane’s wife died in a car accident?”

“Yeah.” Her brother answered, watching her, and she picked up the notes and showed them to the partners.

“So why do none of the witnesses not know any other details of her death? They don’t know what day, if he was in the car with her, nothing. Wouldn’t that be important if he had to take an extended leave of absence from work?”

Jim and Harvey paused, then looked at each other.

“Alright…” Cas watched as Harvey scrolled through some old newspaper articles, “All the witnesses say he left work around this time just under ten years ago.”

Harvey narrowed the search down to around October and November of that year, looking for articles with the name _Crane_ somewhere in them.

“Got it!” He announced after several minutes. Both siblings leaned over each of his shoulders as he scanned over the old newspaper article. “Karen Crane. Says here she died in a housefire, not a car accident.” He looked at Jim. “What are the chances of all four people all lied about her cause of death?”

“Why would Crane lie about how she died?” Cas muttered, confused, before Harvey scrolled down further. It showed a picture of Karen Crane; she looked like a strict woman, early thirties with long blonde hair and pale gray eyes.

“It says she was sleeping upstairs when the fire broke out. Husband and son Jonathan, eight, were downstairs.”

“Oh my gosh…” Cas muttered as Jim’s eyes widened and he looked at his partner and sister.

“Crane was in the house when his wife died?” 

“And didn’t save her.” Harvey concluded. “No wonder he lied!”

“He’s ashamed. He didn’t save his wife out of fear, _that’s_ why he’s doing this!”

“Wait, so where’s the house?” Cassie asked, scanning the screen in front of her. “Cause I’ll bet the last five hundred dollars in my bank account that he’s there.”

“Already on it.” Harvey responded, scribbling the address down on a piece of paper. “Let’s go!”

“Come on, Cas,” Jim beckoned his younger sister to follow them. “If he’s exposing his son to this, we’re going to need some type of medical interference should things go wrong.”

It was dark by the time they rolled up to the house. Jim cut the siren, lights still flashing red and blue.

The building had been burned and charred, decrepit against the dried foliage around it. It had clearly once been a very beautiful house, with charred and ruined white trim around the door and windows. Despite the dead look inside, something about it made Cas want to hang back. It was like hearing the echoes of a scream; the air was still thick with the vibrations of the terror that had been left behind.

Walking behind her brother, she waved the flashlight in front of their group as they entered the anteroom that held the front door to the house. There were no signs of life around them, but she kept her hand on her gun just in case while both Jim and Harvey held their own weapons at the low ready.

“Can you hear anything?” Jim whispered, but his companions shook their heads. It was completely silent around them. Reaching up, he knocked loudly on the front door. “GCPD!”

Again, nothing, and Jim reached up to knock one final time. “GCPD, if there is someone here, make yourselves known now!”

Still, they were met with dead silence. Reaching up, Harvey slowly pushed open the glass door, watching carefully around them for signs of danger. But as they crossed the threshold, a loud clanging noise cause all their heads to swivel towards the sound of the disturbance.

As they ran, though, Cas paused upon hearing several footsteps thundering out the backdoor. Hesitating for a split second, she turned on her heel and busted back through the front door and around the house, footsteps crackling over the dried brush as she entered the backyard.

The sight of a figure made her jump and bring up her gun, but she stopped upon realizing it wasn’t a person; it was a scarecrow. The sight made her shiver, she’d never been a fan of them, not since Jim took her to a haunted house when she was thirteen and someone dressed up as one scared her so bad she started crying.

Her thoughts were interrupted upon seeing two figures crouch underneath the scarecrow, whispering frantically. Quickly turning off her flashlight, Cassie started creeping forward, praying they didn’t look up and catch her pale blonde hair.

As she neared them, she heard a younger voice that sounded on the bring of hysterics.

“…you can’t, dad, that’s too much!”

Crouching behind an old tractor, she slowly looked around to see an older man that she recognized as Gerald Crane bent over a much younger looking boy with shaggy brown hair and pale skin. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen. _That must be his son, Jonathan._

“It’s the only way.” Crane told his son grimly, and Cassie realized in horror that he was drawing pale yellow liquid into a syringe.

“Dad, there’s not enough time-!”

“I love you, son.”

Cassie jumped from her spot, moving to run towards them. “Crane, don’t!”

But it was too late.

He slammed the needle into his son’s arm, pressing down on the plunger at an incredibly fast speed. Cassandra moved to grab her gun, but he looked up and saw her coming.

Before she was even halfway there, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. Eyes widening, Cas dove out of the way, just barely making it behind another stack of hay before he started firing.

But through the gun fire, a blood curdling scream made Cas freeze.

_Jonathan._

She could hear the teen crying out in sheer, unadulterated terror, his words incoherent as he shifted and scrambled against the hay. Moving to see if she could crawl towards the teen, she barely managed to duck behind her cover again before a bullet hit the hay where her head had originally been.

“Jonathan! Jonathan, it’s ok!” She yelled, desperate to try and bring the boy down from the fear-induced high that was wreaking havoc on his body, but the boy was too far gone, even if he was hearing her. Her heart pounded as she realized too much stress could start to mess with the electrical waves in his brain, and then they would be looking at seizures. Without an ambulance and proper medication, there would be no way to stop them.

“Hands where we can see them!”

The younger girl had never been so relieved to here Harvey’s voice in her life. Knowing Crane was now distracted, she peaked out from behind the hay bale to see him standing, Jonathan still writhing and twitching behind him.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” The deranged man called out, pointing his gun towards the pair.

“Not another step-!”

“Afraid of your guns?” He punctuated his words with three shots towards the partners. Cas watched as the two dove behind tree’s to protect themselves against the bullets and immediately darted towards the hay bales.

“I have no fear!”

His words were soon followed by a small cry of pain when a bullet hit his shoulder, and Cassie moved again, this time throwing herself over the crying younger boy.

“Jonathan, shhh, it’s ok!” She tried to soothe, but the boy was quickly destabilizing. She could see his pupils dilating and could actually see his pulse bounding at the carotid artery. His skin temperature was growing hotter and hotter, and he was whimpering and still occasionally screaming as he stared above them.

More gunshots pushed Cas to dive over his head, clutching the younger boy closer as she attempted to protect the both of them from the hail of bullets. “It’s going to be ok, Jonathan, it’ll be ok! You’re ok!”

Shockingly enough, he suddenly stopped, and the sound of a body hitting the ground made Cas realize his father was gone.

As familiar footsteps pounded towards her, his gaze suddenly moved from above them towards her face. For the barest, smallest second, awareness seemed to flicker back into his eyes.

“Jonathan…” She whispered again, hoping to keep his adrenaline at bay, but his gaze shifted back above them, and one last scream ripped through his throat before he began to shake.

“Shit!” She cursed as Jim stopped beside them, reaching out to put her hand behind his head. “He’s seizing, call the ambulance!”

As they desperately tried to comfort the boy as his body shook and convulsed, Cassie happened to look up and realized what the boy had been screaming at.

The scarecrow above them.

Cas hated hospitals.

Which was weird, seeing as her job earlier that year had demanded dropping off patients to them several times or more per shift, but she’d always hated them. Ever since her mother had passed away in this very hospital, she avoided going anywhere except the emergency department.

But now, in the ICU, she sat at Jonathan Crane’s bedside, watching the younger boy with worried eyes. She could hear the doctor briefing Jim outside the room, but their voices were muffled. A vase of blush peonies sat in a plastic vase beside them, but she knew the boy couldn’t see them. He couldn’t truly see anything aside from his terror.

A nurse came in, checking the drip rate of the medication that was currently hung, and nodded at Cassie before walking out. The blonde watched her leave before turning back to Jonathan and realizing with a start that he was staring right at her.

“Jonathan?” She muttered, but his eyes suddenly glazed over and the fear returned, seeming to look behind her. He began to fight against his restraints, voice climbing to unintelligible shouts. The same nurse ran in and ordered Cassie out of the room, more nurses joining and beginning to give orders for medications to control what seemed to be an oncoming seizure.

But as she joined her brother in the hallway, Cas could’ve sworn she heard the boy whimper one thing.

_Scarecrow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Try not to be too hard on Cas for her decision to quit as Bruce's nanny; she'll be back, but she's got her own flaws and character development to go through.


End file.
